


An Alien on Gallifrey

by theAlmostPorcupine



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, F/M, Gallifrey, Interspecies Romance, Marriage of Convenience, Time Lords and Ladies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-08-10 21:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16462655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theAlmostPorcupine/pseuds/theAlmostPorcupine
Summary: When Donna's engagement falls through, she agrees to marry a complete stranger for the good of the planet Earth. This stranger is an alien who's known as a neglectful Lord President of Gallifrey. Can Donna and the Doctor work together to dodge nasty prophesies of the future, or will one lose everything? What secrets will come to light along the way?





	1. Chapter 1 - In Which a Marriage Proposal is a Hoax

**Author's Note:**

> First time cross-posting. 10 chapters are up on ffn at time of this posting. The story is written, and chapters will be continued to be posted shortly.
> 
> Also, I have both of my current Doctor Who stories completely written. However, I am changing fandoms (there may be one crossover with Doctor Who in the works). I've put one reference to my new fandom in each of my stories, and if anyone can identify the new fandom and send at least one of the references to me by the time I post for it in two weeks or so, then the first who can do so - either here or on ffn - will have the opportunity to request bonus material for one of my stories.

Donna Noble didn't know it yet, but her fiancee, Lance, was obsessed with Earth's interplanetary neighbors. There he stood, occasionally smiling over his cup of candy cane cocoa as Donna updated him on their wedding plans, sipping at a latte.

The smell from her steaming mug wafted into her nostrils, further lowering her guard as she gazed into brown eyes that she would never know were willing to feed her to a nest full of spider-like beings just to see another planet.

Lance was only half-paying attention to Donna, browsing the web on his phone. He grinned suddenly. "Well, what do you know?"

Donna leaned forward. It wasn't like Lance to change the topic. Whatever it was, it had to be big. Something business-related. Or something at the national or global level. "What? Did some politician get caught in an embarrassing situation?"

"Only if he's wrong." Lance showed her a picture on his phone. In it, Harold Saxon, the Prime Minister, was in front of a podium, shaking hands with a tall skinny man in a funny get-up. Who wore flowing red robes and an over-sized headdress? "He says he's welcomed first contact on Earth's behalf."

Donna snorted. "He must have gone bonkers."

Lance ignored her judgment. "He says they're Time Lords from the planet Gallifrey. They want to trade with us. They're offering spices for raw materials and are looking for some cheap labor as well." He continued to scroll through the article.

Donna set her coffee down on a round purple pad, not daring to set the hot mug directly on the wooden desk. "Time Lords? They sound even snootier than the people here."

Not looking up from his article, Lance shrugged. "It would be interesting to meet them once."

Donna watched him read with his big, excited grin on his face for a moment. She enjoyed some thoughts of how much his perfect white teeth matched the immaculate suit jacket on his broad shoulders. She could more than put up with his newly-revealed interest in extraterrestrials for that. Just a few more weeks and they'd be married. Her – married – finally!

She couldn't help but tease him for this fascination though. "You're not going to ditch me for one of those so-called aliens, are you?"

He chuckled. "Of course not. But imagine, if we could enter into interstellar trade, what an opportunity that would be. I bet our trade partners would need a head of human resources."

Donna reached up and slapped his wrist lightly. "Oh, come off it, you. My gramps is bad enough with that talk."

Lance excused himself to return to work, but instead of walking to his office, he strolled off to the elevator. Donna finished her coffee, half-wondering if he really were going to look up some Time Poser girls. Stupid bloke. He'd better stay her stupid bloke.

* * *

 

Donna didn't think about the rumored interplanetary visitors for the rest of her work day, but she happily texted Nerys to gossip about them while she rode the metro home. Her fingers flew over the touch screen's miniature keypad with the same speed that made her the best temp in Chiswick. _Of course they're not real aliens. Where's their spaceship?_

Really, Nerys should know better than to be so gullible. This was just as bad as the so-called Christmas Invasion the previous December. It was actually just as bad too – again, with so many people buying into the latest scam, just because Harold Saxon was involved. Donna didn't think highly of Britain's leader constantly trying to pull bamboozle them in his last term in office. If he were eligible to run again, he would be the absolutely last candidate she'd be voting for this election cycle. She was going to remember not to vote for anyone else from his party.

She glared at Nerys' latest text.  _I heard they teleported directly here or something. Anyway, their Lord President is a looker, don't you think? I'll be more disappointed if he turns out to be a slug in a human suit than if he turns out to be a phony._

Donna rolled her eyes. Of course that would be Nerys' main concern.  _Do you mean that skinny streak of nothing shaking Harold Saxon's hand in the photos? I'd find him better-looking if he were a slug in a human suit._

She got a snort just picturing Nerys' scandalized face over her latest reply. The image lasted as the train pulled up to her station and she disembarked.

Nerys hadn't replied by the time she climbed up the grimy subway stairs and side-stepped the puddles gleaming in the streetlamps. She didn't reply at all.

There was no more unearthly nonsense until she arrived at her parents' house and saw a woman waiting in front of a recycling bin in the yard. Strange. For one thing, her parents didn't keep a recycling bin in the yard. For another, the woman was dressed similarly to that conman who claimed to be from a different world.

It was hard to see the details of the woman's garb in the dark, but Donna could spot a few differences: her robes were white, she wore a cap in place of a headdress, and a pendant with two overlapping circles and what could have been a stylized keyhole hung around her neck.

Donna crossed her arms. "Oi! This is private property. I can't believe the nerve of you people and the things you pull getting poor dunderheads to believe you."

Although the strange woman took a moment to fold her arms in her sleeves, her face remained impassive. "You are Donna Noble, correct?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I am Demeter. I am a respected scholar on Gallifrey who interprets the Matrix's prophesies. A government adviser."

Demeter went silent. She stared, unblinking, at Donna with a pair of dark eyes. With her flawless skin, her perfect stoic expression, and thick rings of charcoal hair pulled into a low bun, she was more a statue of some forgotten goddess than a human being. Donna could see why she'd been chosen as an actress for whatever ridiculous scam they were pulling with the non-terrestrial visitors.

Her intimidation tactics weren't going to work on Donna. "Well,  _Demeter._  I have a prophesy for you: I am going to call the police in fifteen seconds if you don't leave."

Demeter didn't even blink. "I'm sure your grandfather would take exception to this. He invited me to stick around and meet you."

Yes, that sounded just like something her gramps would do if someone claimed to be from space. Donna scowled. "What do you want?"

"Lord President Doctor needs a human bride. I was told you're looking to get married."

A marriage proposal as a hoax. A marriage proposal from a supposed space man as a hoax! What was this lot up to? Donna raised her hand and pointed at her engagement ring. "Sorry, lady! Kind of taken."

Finally, Demeter showed the faintest hint of emotion: the corners of her lips turned upward. It was as though she knew some joke that Donna didn't. She'd better not have walked straight into her trap. But how could you get conned by saying  _no?_  "I have it on the best authority that Mr. Bennet will call off the engagement soon. Should you accept, the Time Lords will see to it that you live a worthwhile life. Would you rather stay as a temp, migrating from one dead-end job to another, seeking a husband with whom you'll just make do? I guarantee that you'll never accomplish anything greater here than if you marry our Lord President. You have a week to think about this."

Well, if she didn't know how to make a mark trust her! Just how was she expecting to pull one over on her like this anyway? Donna snorted. "You expect me to marry anyone after asking like that?"

"It's true, isn't it?" Demeter stepped closer, pulling out some sort of cylindrical device from her sleeve. "There is just one more matter, and I'll leave you to your pondering."

"The answer is  _no!_ " Donna shouted, but Demeter stayed as cool as ever.

Demeter flicked her cylinder up and golden sparks flew up out of Donna. They gathered into a tiny, glittering ball, and floated into the edge of Demeter's device. "Evidence. Mr. Bennett told us that there's a Racnoss manufacturing Huon particles on this planet."

"Hold up a sec!" Donna strode toward Demeter. "What was that? What did you do to me?"

Demeter looked down her nose at Donna. "Those were Huon particles. Quite possibly, I just saved your life. Here's a free word of advice: don't go around drinking things that you haven't tested for poison." She turned, lifted the bin's lid, and climbed inside.

Donna stared. How could a door fit there? And down inside, she thought she saw a full, circular room!

The door closed. With a sound like  _vworp, vworp,_  the bin faded out of the yard.

No, no, no! That couldn't be real. She was sleep-deprived or something from all the recent nights of staying up and chatting with the girls about her wedding plans. Donna stepped forward, as though expecting to find disturbed soil where wheels once were. There was an imprint of something in the grass, but no sign of the bin itself. "Gramps!"

It was her mother who came out. "Is that alien finally gone? We would have sent her away, but we weren't sure what she would do to us. And your gramps was thrilled to meet her!"

Donna looked at her mother, silently begging her to deny what she was about to say. "You saw her too."

"A Time Lord. The whole world knows about them! What did she want with you?"

Donna entered her parents' house, complaining about her recent visitor.

* * *

The following day was a Thursday. Donna got dressed into professional clothes as usual – a red blouse with a pair of white heels, blue-gray slacks and a matching blazer – and went to work. It wasn't long into the morning before she was called in to see her boss.

That office was as posh as the rest of the building: expensive wood that shined under the florescent lights: soft spotless rugs that stretched across the floor, smooth detailed wood-working, post-graduate diplomas hung on the walls, and not a spot of dust anywhere. The whole thing could intimidate anyone who let it. It was a little much even for someone who never let herself be intimidated, such as Donna.

Her fat boss was leaning back in his leather-backed swivel chair, a scowl on his face. "Ms. Noble."

She put on her best smile. "Good morning, Mr. Clements."

"You have been with the company far too long for someone who does not fit in the company culture." He glared at her, as though it were somehow her fault that she grew up in Chiswick.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Additionally, you disturb the other employees with your endless gossip, fail to show interest during company meetings, and neglect to take the initiative to find more tasks when you completed your assignments. Truthfully, we have not had need of an extra secretary for a while. The only reason we have kept you on is because our head of human resources took a special interest in you. Since he quit-"

"What do you mean?"

Clements tapped his fingers on the chair's arm. "He suddenly left yesterday. Last night, he called to say he'd found a better opportunity."

Lance really was serious about working for aliens? "Well," Donna huffed, "he'd better enjoy it."

Clements nodded slightly. "As for you, you have until lunch to remove your things from our office. Dismissed."

Well, the nerve! Just like that, and no job. Donna left Clements' office, silently fuming. As soon as she was back at her desk, packing her things with one hand, she called up Lance to ask what was going on. He picked up after several rings.

"Oh hey, Donna."

"Don't you  _oh hey, Donna_  me!" Donna tossed a pen case into her bag. "When were you going to tell me the news?"

"News, yes. Alright, here's the news: the engagement's off. Why would I want to settle down with someone like you – a future-less nobody who isn't worth anything?"

Donna gasped. "Why you back-stabbing prawn! I devoted the last six months to you. I love you."

"I know," Lance said, "but something better's come along than the future that involved you. I never loved you back. You know that, right? No, of course you didn't. That's what made it easy."

Donna blinked away the wetness in her eyes. Just because Lance couldn't see her didn't mean she could cry in front of everyone else at H. C. Clements. They didn't care for her anyway. "How could you?"

"Simple. I wanted to get off this planet, so I did what I had to." He paused, but not long enough for Donna to swallow the lump in her throat and scream at him. "You should be grateful. You're desperate to get married and I set you up with a groom. He's a prominent politician too. What better are you going to get when chance is the only thing you have going for you?"

Donna squeezed the mini-stapler she was holding inside a trembling fist. "That visit to my house, you were responsible for that?"

"Calm down. Look at it this way: whatever Lord President Doctor needs a human bride for, we humans are so far behind Time Lords that even you should be suitable. You'll finally be of value to someone, and those wedding plans of yours might not entirely go to waste."

Some of Donna's tears sneaked past her stubbornness and onto her cheek. She set her stapler in her bag and wiped the drops away. "You think that's what I wanted, Sunshine? I wanted to marry you, and you set me up with some- some alien streak of nothing! Or is that even what he really looks like?"

"Donna." Lance's firmness caught her off-guard. "We're through." He hung up immediately.

Donna shoved the rest of her things into her bag and rushed onto the elevator. She mostly managed to hold her feelings in until she got home and locked herself in her room. She took some comfort in the sight of the magazines stacked on her black nightstand and the touch of the smooth purple covers on her bed. It wasn't quite enough, so she curled up on her mattress and let it all out. Now and again, she'd shout at nobody in particular.

Her sob session lasted maybe ten minutes before her mother banged on her door. "Donna? Why aren't you at work?"

"Go away, Mum. I got fired, okay? And Lance ditched me for some space woman, so you see the morning I've had."

"What?" The doorknob rattled. There was more banging on the door. "Donna Noble, you let me in this instant."

Donna reached for a plush pillow to throw at the door if her mother didn't shove off. "I want to be alone."

Her mother didn't let up. "So help me, Donna, this is my house. If you don't-"

"And this is my life!" Donna threw the pillow and reached for her phone. She blasted music through it to drown out her mother. It worked. Not much of what Sylvia Noble was saying was clear over the bass guitar, and Donna was able to just lie there and have a good cry.

That Lance, trying to substitute someone of a different species for himself! What did Lord President Whatever need a human for anyway? It seemed a bit fishy to her, like those sci-fi shows where Mars just needed women, but that wasn't the case, was it? They had their own women, like Demeter. Lance was probably cuddling up with one right now.


	2. Chapter 2 - In Which Geoff is Proud

Lance was gone.

Donna spent the next few days in front of the television with a box of tissues and a tub of strawberry ice cream, sobbing at the drop of a hat as she watched the Easter Enders, Britain's Got Talent, and the BBC news.

The Time Lords were still making headlines as pundits and skeptics argued about whether the aliens were a hoax. Donna couldn't even mock the pundits anymore, not after seeing Demeter disappear in a recycling bin that wasn't a recycling bin. They weren't just some over-publicized crazies.

The most productive Donna could do at first was to lie on the couch and tune in to theories of what the aliens really wanted with Earth. Some had the same thoughts about women on Mars or Gallifrey or wherever. Some thought the interplanetary "traders" wanted slaves. And some thought they wanted to eat human flesh.

Others believed that they just wanted to exchange spices for labor and raw materials.

After a few days to pull herself together, Donna supposed she'd better try to start moving on. It wasn't as though she had long to have children of her own. She hated that Demeter was right about everything she'd said about her.

She paused in picking her phone off the coffee table. Memories of Demeter's cold way of proposing marriage to that Doctor-without-a-proper-name haunted her mind.

So did Lance's words when he'd called it off.

So did her mother's constant criticisms.

So did those of everybody who'd ever disdained her as a temp.

Biting back tears, Donna opened a browser on her phone. She would find out what the Time Lords were up to. That would show them all.

Lord President Doctor, she typed. What came back were memes, gossip columns, the photo of him shaking Harold Saxon's hand, and the articles that had broken the news about his civilization in the first place. There were also interviews with one bald, bug-eyed male who was speaking to the press in the Doctor's place, but there wasn't so much as a single interview with the Lord President himself.

So the aliens had a leader who was too busy or too uncaring to deal with Earth himself. Or perhaps, if his representative's slightly down-turned lips were expressing his displeasure with the Doctor, perhaps he was the irresponsible sort of leader who always shoved his work off onto everyone else.

With that thought, Donna added holiday to the search terms and started shifting through Internet junk. Mostly, there were rumors that the Doctor had visited Earth before in his own TARDIS, not that the pictures that were said to back the rumors matched the wild-haired pretty boy who shook the prime minister's hand.

TARDIS. It didn't sound like a proper word, but it came up a lot. Donna delved into that next.

Oh, it was the type of spaceship the Time Lords used. A shape-shifting, bigger-on-the-inside spaceship. Like Demeter's. The ships were claimed to be able to travel in time too. How wizard. How easy it would be for the aliens to make the human race their slaves already if that was what they were after.

Donna kept searching, but no matter the angle, she couldn't put her finger on why someone like the Doctor would need a human bride.

When she glanced back up at the telly, she saw Breaking News scrolling across its bottom. An anchorwoman with a padded red suit coat over a black-and-white blouse was speaking. "The Time Lords have alerted authorities to a second form of alien life lurking right here on Earth, alien life they tell us is dangerous."

Donna gawked at the picture of what looked like a giant red being with a humanoid torso and spider legs. "You're joking. Those have managed to hide here? How big are they when they're not on screen?"

"…The London police are investigating claims that there is a nest of these spider-like Racnoss accessible under the Thames. While the investigation is going on, they urge the public to avoid the river when possible..."

Donna sat up straighter. "They're under the Thames, are they? What do they want?"

The scrolling banner changed to match the report. Alien advisory in the following areas…. Donna vaguely noticed that the part of town she'd be going to if she still worked at H. C. Clements was on the list. It was the first she'd been thankful to be rid of this particular job, her snobbish coworkers aside.

"...has already been one Gallifreyan casualty reported. More details as the story unfolds."

Donna got on the phone straight away. "Did you see the news?"

As the rest of the week passed, the Time Lords dealt with the Racnoss swiftly, the BBC announced that the Gallifreyans' spices were confirmed safe for human consumption, and Donna made no progress on working out why the aliens wanted a human bride for their leader.

At this rate, she would have to ask Demeter when she returned. If it was a respectable answer, Donna figured she might as well say yes. She loathed that everyone was right, but she was stuck in a dead end in Chiswick, and marrying the Doctor was looking like the only way out.

So she argued with her mother as she was buying suitcases. "What are you complaining for? You've always wanted me to move out some day!"

"Not to another planet! This is insane, even for one of your little attention-seeking schemes."

She argued with her mother as she was packing her clothes. "So what? How's that different than any other bloke who doesn't really want me?"

"He's an alien. Who knows how many more things he could do to you than a normal husband? Besides, what if he's venomous? What if your kids are born with horns? What do we really know about his species anyway? And Demeter told us there's no divorce on their planet, so you know you'll be stuck!"

And she argued with her mother as they waited in the cold night for Demeter's TARDIS to materialize in their yard. "I don't think they see any of us as qualified for much! Why should I be any worse than anyone else?"

Her mother put her hand in the crook of Donna's elbow. "Exactly. You tell them they could easily find someone younger and prettier. Many of that lot are infatuated with the Doctor anyhow."

"I know." Donna pulled her arm away and stepped backward in the yard's crunchy snow. "I know I'm not young or beautiful or successful. This is the first time in a decade that anyone's picked me. I just want to find out what they want. If it's nothing bad, I'll go with them. We all know I'm not helping anyone here."

Her mother did something Donna hadn't seen her do in years – she wiped her eyes on her jacket's long sleeve. "But taking my daughter away from me – what good will that do? Answer me that."

"Mum," Donna said over the sounds of a landing TARDIS, "if their ships are as amazing as they say, then visiting should be a cinch. When will I ever get a chance like this again?"

Her mother turned toward the front door. "You'll always do whatever you want, I suppose. The aliens don't know what they're getting into with you. I'll just be getting the tea ready for your guest, shall I?"

Donna hugged her from behind. "Thanks, Mum."

When Donna pulled away, Demeter was watching her from in front of what looked like a decorative reindeer. "What have you decided?"

Donna rubbed her cold arms, wondering if her thick jacket was really doing anything to keep her warm. "I have some questions before I decide anything. Why don't you come in and we'll talk."

"Very well." Demeter followed Donna's lead and took a seat on the small brown sofa in the living room. She gave the room a gander.

"We don't normally have trees in our houses," Donna said, trying to make small talk. "That's for a holiday tomorrow. It's-"

"I'm aware of what Christmas is," Demeter interrupted, fixing her gaze on Donna. "What did you want to know?"

Space Lady's answers had better be decent. "Why does your Lord President need a human bride?"

"There are multiple reasons. Political ones mostly." Demeter was giving Donna chills that had nothing to do with the slight draft coming through the window behind them. The alien woman appeared almost as much a statue sitting on the sofa as she had when standing in the yard the week before. If she'd come from Earth, Donna would say she was raised in the upper crust, where things like posture and formalities were a big thing. Time Lords – were they all as stuffy as they sounded, or was Demeter's demeanor because she held a position as a big-shot prophetess or whatever?

Donna narrowed her eyes. "Political reasons like?"

"Reassuring your people that we mean no harm. Demonstrating to our people that Lord President Doctor is serious about forming relations with other planets – enough to not run off during his term again." Demeter leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice. "We also thought your personality might successfully keep him in line."

Donna nodded. She may not have been as experienced in interplanetary politics as in office politics, but what Demeter said made sense. She also felt a spark of hope that she might just do some good on Gallifrey – calling people out on their nonsense was something within her capacity. "And you want to reach out to other planets now because…?"

"It's always been important to our leader. He likes to exchange ideas and meet other species. Now just happens to be opportune to reach out with higher-than-usual public support for that idea." Demeter lowered her eyebrows. "You might say we've had a wake-up call with a recent war. Most of us would much rather have called on allies than gone along with what our former Lord President proposed. If it weren't for the Doctor, we might have had to."

The bit about the Doctor's agenda fit with the rumors of him having his own TARDIS. Donna relaxed a little, deciding to trust that Demeter was telling the truth.

Shortly, her mother came in with the tea. Her father came beside her with a tray of sliced cake. The two must have really been worried about offending an alien – Donna's mother never did anything this nice on Donna's behalf. Her mother set a saucer down in front of Demeter first. "It's custom here to serve these to our guests. We would have had some for you last week, had we been expecting you. We hope they are to your liking."

No one said anything as Demeter sampled both the tea and the cake without so much as a thank you. She set her fork down finally and accepted the offerings with a "Neither is poisonous for me."

"Oi! Did you expect us to poison you, Space Lady?"

Her mother's hands flew over her mouth. "Donna!" She turned to Demeter. "I am so sorry. She says things without thinking sometimes. She didn't mean anything by it."

Demeter lifted her teacup. "I doubt any other personality would stand its own against our Lord President. What you're apologizing for is a key trait for any potential First Lady of ours to have."

Donna wished she could take a picture of her mother's face in that moment: jaw dropped, eyes wide, completely silenced. She couldn't remember when else someone had silenced her mother's tongue so well on her behalf. Perhaps she could learn to like the Time Lords. No, she couldn't judge them all by just one person, but at least she knew they weren't all completely unbearable.

Seeing as how Demeter wasn't some two-timing ex-fiancee, the marriage prospect was better than her last job already. Now she couldn't pass on this. "I'll do it."

Demeter's eyes gleamed. "Good. Let's talk details."

Only two weeks later, Donna was standing before the aisle. The church's carved pews were overflowing with people she didn't recognize. Time Lords took up half their side of the room with just their bright robes and headdresses. Cameras flashed as every news station on the planet that could possibly get a reporter in took pictures. Beside the organ, a Time Lady with a pendant over her robes rested her fingers on a flat, circular device – the Gallifreyan version of the paparazzi?

The extraterrestrial pretty boy, the Doctor, was standing stiff in a tux and a black bow tie, his gaze a little too low on Donna for her liking.

Donna's stomach threatened to spoil the clean red runner and her tailored white dress with it. What was she thinking, going through with something so high-profile as this? And to a complete stranger too?

The only faces she recognized were those of her family and her closest friends. Her mother and grandfather were sitting up on the front row. A few of her girl friends had been brought in as bridesmaids, wearing the green dresses she'd picked for her wedding to Lance. Her father stood beside her, holding her arm.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself of why they were doing this. Why she was doing this.

So she wasn't marrying for love. So what? She didn't have much chance of that left in her life anyway. But she was marrying for a valid reason.

Her father patted her arm as the music started. "I'm proud of you," he whispered.

Donna nodded and took the first step toward the groom. He didn't take his eyes off her, but it couldn't be because she was beautiful. He had to be wondering what sort of person he was about to marry just as much as she was. This was an arranged marriage for him too. One he'd had less say in than she did.

Neither one of them spoke as the priest gave a sermon or as some blowhard from Gallifrey gave a speech about solidifying relations between their two planets. Time crawled past as she tried to read the Doctor's body language without staring at him. If he were human, she'd say he was nervous: it was in the slight way he rocked on his heels and fidgeted with something in his pocket. Since he was Gallifreyan, Donna didn't know exactly, but she'd guess the cues meant the same thing in a Time Lord that they meant in a human. It would make her life so much easier if that was the case.

Finally, it was time for them to make their vows. Donna almost didn't hear the Doctor on his turn because he spoke so quietly. His kiss too was subdued. He was still alien, still scrawny, and she wasn't eager to find out if his tongue was just as cool as his lips, but he was kind of cute. It could have been much worse for her. Sure, she might not want to kiss her new husband back, but at least she didn't want to slap him for making out with her. That subdued kiss promised he wouldn't move in on her too quickly.

The reception was a quick, solemn affair compared to what Donna was used to: no music, no dancing, just her friends and family coming to offer their best wishes. It didn't give her much of a chance to get to know the Doctor. She hugged her family goodbye, promised to tell them all about Gallifrey when she had the chance, and then she was whisked toward a TARDIS disguised as an empty table.

She caught the Doctor watching her from the corner of his eye as they climbed inside the spaceship. "What?"

"No passing remarks? Normally humans are a lot more entertaining when entering a TARDIS for the first time."

She wasn't in the mood to humor him, but she supposed she should at least try, for the sake of a tolerable marriage. She glanced around the circular white room's roundels and central pilot stations. "It's nice, I suppose. It's everything I read about in the columns."

"I see," he mumbled, leaving her side in favor of a spot at the console. Five of his kind went to the other posts around it, and together they started working the instruments. There was a tube in the very center and something started moving up and down within it. Then came the engine sounds that were quickly becoming very familiar to Donna.

Only a few minutes passed before the engines made themselves heard again and the Time Lords stepped away from their machine.

One of the Time Lords fell in step with the Doctor immediately. Donna recognized him as the bald bloke who'd taken the Doctor's place for interviews – Syrlian, wasn't it? "Lord President, you're needed to finalize arrangements for Earth's coverage of the new First Lady's recognition ceremony. Lady Vellicessa will take care of your wife for a while."

The Doctor glared at Syrlian. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

This was who Donna would be living with for the foreseeable future. She was starting to see for herself what Demeter meant by needing someone to keep him in line. "Oi, Pretty Boy, this diplomacy is on your agenda, isn't it? What's with that attitude?"

He recoiled. "Pretty boy?"

Donna crossed her arms. "Well, what else am I supposed to call you, Space Man? You don't have the muscles to be the manly type. Not the backbone either from what I hear. And your hair looks like you spend longer styling it than you do actually helping the people you lead."

She saw a lady shaking with quiet laughter out of the corner of her eye. Oh, Donna was nailing this!

The Doctor spread his arms in front of him. "It's not my fault that I'm this dreamy in this regeneration."

Donna didn't know what he meant, but she decided to roll with it. "Well, maybe you should try a different regeneration, Sunshine, if that's what it takes to focus on the people who need you."

"Alright, I'm going!" He took a step, paused, and glanced around at the others. "Did you have to pick such a violent human being?"

Syrlian folded his arms in his sleeves. "You have five minutes to get changed. I shall be waiting for you here in the console room."

The Doctor threw his hands in the air, stepping further into the TARDIS. "I said I'm going."

The lady that Donna had spotted snickering stepped toward her. Donna immediately fought back jealous feelings over the woman's features – thin body, flawless skin, and straight brown hair. No one ever made fun of beautiful brunettes like her. The lady said, "I am to show you around the capital building. Your luggage will be delivered to your residence."

"Alright then." Donna followed the woman toward the doors. "What's your name?"

"I'm Vellicessa. You may address me as Lady Vellicessa."

"Donna Noble. Sorry, Lungbarrow." Donna said, though Vellicessa was bound to have heard her name already. "You may address me as appropriate." Hey, if she was stuck as the Lord President's wife now, she may as well have the perks that came with the position.

Vellicessa paused in front of the door. "Welcome to Gallifrey, First Lady Donna." She smirked at Donna as the TARDIS's thick doors opened into a large circular room with an orange-toned floor. A wide room-height window showed Donna the planet outside.

Donna's jaw dropped.


	3. Chapter 3 - In Which Donna Sees her Name in Gallifreyan

Donna glided over to the window to take a better look at Gallifrey. She looked down on towering round buildings below, which glittered in the light of two suns in an orange sky. At the edge of the city, a dome of clear glass was shining, and beyond it was a red wilderness of mountain and desert. "It's beautiful."

She followed around the window to view all the cityscape, which was all tall round shapes, polished, with thinner spires at building tops. Then she saw cracks in the dome and jags of glass missing from it. A section of city lay in rubble. "Oh."

Donna didn't realized that Vellicessa had joined her until she spoke. "It's being rebuilt. That out there is where the Doctor succeeded in driving the Daleks from our planet. All thirteen of him, apparently. No, maybe even more versions of him than that."

"I didn't understand much of that," Donna had to admit. "What happened to the city?"

Vellicessa was watching Donna from the corner of her eye. "Daleks."

"What-leks?"

"Daleks." Vellicessa wrapped her arms around herself. "They were a race bred to hate and kill. They wanted to wipe out all other species in the universe, and the war machines they sealed themselves in made them nearly unstoppable. They exterminated entire star systems before anyone could fight back. Count yourself fortunate that your world has never heard of them."

Donna peered out at the ruined part of the city. "And that's where the Doctor stopped them?"

"Yes."

"What do you mean, all thirteen of him?" She hadn't just married thirteen different aliens, had she?

"Regeneration." Vellicessa's lips twitched. "Do you actually know what that means?"

"No." Donna pondered for a moment if she should ask for a glossary of all these alien terms, or if she'd be tutored in their ways anyhow.

"Our cytoplasm is a repository of artron energy. We are saturated enough that we can rejuvenate ourselves twelve times throughout our lives, albeit with the side effect of recombining our deoxyribonucleic acid."

Donna shuffled, wishing she had paid more attention in school. Were all Time Lords this difficult to understand? "I'm no scientist."

Vellicessa frowned. "And I'm no anthropologist. I shall have to see if I can explain it in a way that makes sense to someone of your background." She closed her eyes and breathed in heavily. "Perhaps this. Have you ever seen a mask?"

"Yeah?" This explanation was better already.

"Imagine an actor with thirteen masks."

Donna nodded. "Okay."

"The actor is the soul of a Time Lord. The masks are the way we look: coloring, body shape, age, size, and so on."

Donna pictured what she'd look like if she could have a different body. She'd be younger and thinner for sure. Maybe she'd be blonde. She'd keep her height though. "You're shape-shifters?"

Vellicessa gave a slight shrug. "Technically, yes. Our abilities are extremely limited. It may be more helpful to think of us as having thirteen chances at life."

But then how were there thirteen or so Doctors fighting the villains?

"Time travel," Vellicessa said.

Donna jumped. Did she just voice her question aloud, or did Vellicessa read her mind? She asked.

"You said it out loud. Most of us aren't so strongly telepathic that we could read your mind with the amount of distance between me and you." Vellicessa turned and gestured for Donna to follow. "Now for that tour."

Donna followed. "Is it going to start with somewhere I can change out of this dress? And how badly am I jet-lagged anyway? Is there even such a thing as night here with your multiple suns?"

She continued the questions as Vellicessa taught her how to navigate the halls and open the doors. The tour ended with Vellicessa escorting Donna to the residential floors where important government officials and their closest relatives lived. She showed Donna to the Doctor's bigger-on-the-inside apartment and told her where she was expected to come for some ceremony rehearsal in twelve Earth hours.

Donna quickly found a bedroom with her luggage in it and changed into gray sweats and a T-shirt. It could almost have been a transplant of her room at her mother's house. She swore the carpet, the walls, and the bed were exactly the same. There was even a manual light switch for her in the same spot by the door.

There was no space for the Doctor. For that, she was relieved.

She changed into pajamas, found the loo, and returned to slip into her sheets.

* * *

Donna's new room was so much like her old room that she was startled when her door didn't have a knob in the morning, sliding right open instead. She went to the spot where she remembered the loo to be the previous night, but it wasn't there.

Daft alien homes and their tricks! The rest of the capital building had better not be this way or she'd never find the ceremony hall. She trudged through the apartment to try to find the loo.

She passed the Doctor as he was bleeping something with a small, pen-like device in his hand. To her surprise, she saw him wearing a pinstripe suit and a pair of converses instead of the scarlet robe hanging from the ceiling.

He greeted her by nodding toward said robe. "There's some formal wear for you. Also, the nutrition cubes are in those tins over there. The blue ones are human-friendly. Each one is a meal unto itself."

What a way to start off the day! They were basically just swallowing pills on this planet, weren't they? "You mean people don't eat here?"

The Doctor looked up. "Only on formal occasions."

Barmy aliens. "Do you at least have something like tea or coffee for the mornings?"

"Time Lords don't need any." He paused. "But that doesn't mean we don't like a good cuppa. I have some tea on my TARDIS, but the High Council has yet to return my key. Do you think you could help me get it back?"

Donna snatched the robe. Oh, this thing had better not clash with her hair or make her look fatter than she already was. "Why? So you can run out on everyone?"

"It's not like that! I may be Lord President, but that doesn't mean there's much for me to do around here. The High Council has most of the power nowdays. I'm primarily a diplomat. A diplomat stranded on Gallifrey."

Donna crossed her arms. "Then why is everyone so worried about you running off?"

The Doctor swallowed. "Because  _diplomat_  means something different here than it does on Earth, and the highest ranks of Gallifrey don't like that my conscience prevents me from doing my job the way they want it done."

Great. Now she had to deal with a he-said-she-said situation on top of everything else until she could get her facts straight. She would have to ask someone what the job of the Lord President was, someone without anything to gain from her, but she didn't want to deal with this first thing in the morning. "We'll see about that, Pretty Boy. Now where's the loo and why isn't it where it was last night?"

"Sorry about that. I didn't know if I'd see you before I have to leave, so I moved it. I have something to check on, you see, and I'm sorry, but it may take a while." He turned to the wall, slid open a panel, and pressed a little black button. "There. Should be back now."

Donna turned to hurry off, but the Doctor's cool hand wrapped around her wrist. "Wait!"

"What?"

The Doctor held up the thing he'd been working on. It was a silver bracelet of thin strands that worked themselves into intricate circles, little sparkling beads worked into the craft. "This is for you to wear today. It's your name in Gallifreyan." He slipped it on her wrist.

That made this marriage a little better. Donna did her best to smile. "Thanks. Will I see you there?"

"Oh, you can count on it," he said, smiling. "By the way, I asked Vellicessa to come by in about half an hour to help you out a bit more. She's been reassigned temporarily to do that." The Doctor was slipping his tool into an inner coat pocket and starting to clear his work space.

"Alright then. See you later."

Donna took her time getting ready in the nicest bathroom she'd ever used, appreciating it more after a good sleep. The toilet seat was soft, warm, played music, and had a nozzle that cleaned her perfectly. The shower had two hovering heads that adjusted themselves at her every whim, and when Donna stepped out, a warm breeze had her dried in moments, hair and all. A girl could get used to it.

It was her robe she wasn't sure she could get used to. Sure, she could get it on easily enough, but the color went horribly with her hair and the headdress must have weighed a pound. "I just had to marry onto the planet of the heavy hats."

A sound chimed through the apartment like a doorbell. That was Vellicessa, wasn't it? Donna slipped on her new bracelet and ran from the bathroom. "Come in!"

Perhaps Donna's eyes weren't tuned into the intricacies of Gallifreyan clothing yet, but Vellicessa's robe looked just like the one she'd worn the day before. Yet she looked no less put together for it. Not so much as a hair out of place. "Are you ready to go?"

Donna had taken too much time to get ready it seemed. "Not at all. I haven't eaten, I don't know what footwear goes with this, and I have no clue how I'm going to do my makeup to look as natural as yours."

Vellicessa blinked. "Makeup?"

"I forgot who I'm talking to. Of course you don't need any!" They couldn't all be shape-shifters. Donna would have to get the Doctor used to importing some basic comforts from Earth.

"Neither do you."

Was that a compliment? No, it couldn't be. Time Lords could change their faces, and all the women had the habit of choosing ones prettier than hers. It couldn't be that she was beautiful to them.

The rest of Vellicessa's reply put her comment along those lines: "You're the First Lady. Your office doesn't require makeup."

Donna pouted. "I guess I'll have to settle for au naturale then."

Vellicessa didn't reply to this. She merely directed Donna in finding a pair of plain black boots and in selecting the correct size of nutrition cube for breakfast. It tasted like a rice cracker and had the texture of bread, but it was strangely filling. A hard disk in the center of the cube cleaned her mouth afterward, tasting like some cold spice Donna had never eaten before.

* * *

The next few hours were full of information about the ceremony that Donna would be rehearsing for. It was apparently a feast with some highly ritualized speeches to acknowledge that she'd married the Lord President. There were some lines that Donna had to memorize, but at least the event was something to look forward to.

"A feast? Does that mean there will be actual food?"

Vellicessa smiled. "It would be a shame for you not to try all the flavors we are trading with your home world."

While she had Vellicessa there - and she would still have to ask a neutral party - but while she had Vellicessa there, Donna also took the opportunity to ask her what the job description of the Lord President was, officially.

"As of the post-war constitution, he's a go-between for common Gallifreyans and the High Council," she explained, flipping through a briefcase. "As the chief diplomat, he also plans how to deal with other worlds in times of peace." She handed a note to Donna. "Here. Our technology does not translate from written Gallifreyan. Seeing as how he's the only Time Lord left who speaks English, the Doctor prepared your lines and cues in advance. He'll be joining us for the rehearsal proper in an hour."

Donna blinked. "Hold on. You're not speaking English? I didn't know a translator could dub you for me, and I don't see one anywhere anyway."

"It's an automatic feature of our TARDISes. So long as you're in range of a TARDIS, it will translate for you. You'll be fine anywhere on this planet."

She could go shopping without having to speak the local language, but those circles looked hard to learn to read. From a secretary to an illiterate with a single move.

Vellicessa nodded at the notes. "You should practice. I haven't heard high praises about the human memory."

Donna glanced at her lines. Hardly two paragraphs in three hours! "I think I can manage, thank you! What, can Time Lords memorize an entire textbook overnight?"

"It would only take a Time Lord that long if the Time Lord in question had brain damage." Vellicessa smirked at Donna's open mouth. "You should really start practicing. It will be hard to look off that note during rehearsal."

Donna hoped Vellicessa was having a good laugh. There had to be something that these Gallifreyans didn't show her and the rest of the human race up at. With a roll of her eyes, she read through her lines. Later, she snorted at Vellicessa's moment of surprise when she finished earlier than expected, and what little time there was left before the rehearsal turned into a crash course on the Gallifreyan government.

Donna had already asked about the job of the Lord President. Now she learned that his was an appointment that could be made by the High Council or by popular demand among the people. The High Council was filled with representatives from only the most ancient families on the planet; and they made laws, executive orders, and judged all the high-profile crimes. The lesser courts were run by Academy law graduates. Also in the government were advisers who interpreted prophesies made by the local supercomputer, the Matrix. The advisers could override the High Council, but only when Gallifrey could fall victim to the Matrix's worst prophesies. They chose their own members from the most talented on the planet.

Clearly, this was such a free society.

Donna was almost regretting any times she'd complained about the government back in the UK by the time rehearsal started. She was led into a large room with long tables and red tablecloths. Four tables ran lengthwise through the room, and one shorter table headed the place. Chairs were placed around the sides of the lengthwise tables and on one side of the front one. Plates, forks, spoons, and goblets rested on top of crimson tablecloths.

It was like a cross between a great hall and a five-star restaurant. If formal feasts were a regular thing, they would almost make up for the nutrition cubes, provided the food was delectable and safe for human consumption.

Only those at the head table were joining them today: Donna herself; the Doctor, who had yet to show; Vellicessa, who was apparently the government's top secretary; an aging, blue-eyed Time Lord called Rassilon, who was the Lord Chancellor; and Syrlian, who was apparently Rassilon's personal assistant.

The Time Lords were just showing Donna where and how to sit when the Doctor ran in, headdress in one arm. "Hello, everyone. Sorry I'm late." He reached up to put on his frankly ridiculous hat.

"Look who decided to join us," Syrlian grumbled.

Rassilon nodded, rolling his eyes. "He's always been an irresponsible child."

The Doctor continued as though they'd said nothing. "You would not believe how many questions human reporters can ask."

Syrlian glared at him as the Doctor turned toward Donna. She wondered if he forgot who he was talking to.

"Donna!" The Doctor grinned and jogged toward the front table. He stopped a couple arms' lengths away from her. "You look lovely."

She caught the relieved looks that passed between the other three Time Lords in the room. Her heart warmed. It was nice to know that they cared if this marriage went well.

Her face fell just as quickly. What if the Doctor felt obligated to put on an act for everyone? That could be it. Either that or he was trying to butter her up for something. She shook her head. "Is this how you act when you're late?"

"Right. Let's get started." The Doctor walked the last few paces toward the table and stood behind his chair. He paused and lowered his voice. "You don't have to touch me or act all couple-y with me just for the cameras. We're still strangers to each other, and I know I'm not ready."

Yes, he was just putting on an act. Donna knew better than to get her hopes up anyway. "Fine with me. I didn't really want to mate with some Martian."

"This isn't Mars," grumbled Syrlian.

The Doctor himself just said, "I know." He seated himself, eyes drifting lazily toward the other tables.

Donna leaned toward him. "You and I need to talk later."

He gave no sign of hearing her. He just stared at the back of the room, eyes glazed over. Donna gave a little huff and ignored him. Looking at the others, she asked, "I suppose we should resume the rehearsal?"

Rassilon nodded. "I want a word with your husband later."

To begin, the five of them sat motionless in their seats. Syrlian gave them the cue that the audience were all in attendance and Rassilon stood up to give his speech.

Donna didn't really understand what he was saying, even with the translation. If she had to guess, the speech could have been on Gallifreyan history. She heard phrases like  _the founding of the Cit_ _a_ _del_  and  _the Last Great Time War_. Or perhaps it was on some prophesy: she also heard phrases like  _the Matrix_  and  _the one who will_.

A few moments before the end of Rassilon's speech, the Doctor opened his mouth a little early, speaking softly as though prompting Donna, "For the past, present, and future, and all Gallifrey." But when Rassilon actually finished, the Doctor didn't say the line in unison with everyone else. Instead, he stood up halfway through their sentence and started his own speech.

Everyone stopped and looked at the Doctor.

"Oi! Cut that out!" Donna slapped at the Doctor's leg, but her hand hit something that gave a muted metallic  _clang_  instead, and the Doctor continued as though nothing were wrong. It was as though she'd hit the chair she could see behind him.

Rassilon scowled. "He left us a holographic recording, did he?"

Oh, Donna was going to make sure the Doctor regretted this when she saw him again. Some great whoop he gave about his job really. She couldn't see what there was for his conscience to object to here if he was telling the truth about why he'd been neglecting his responsibilities. What did she need to do, hold his hand?

"...to a future with Time Lords who are…." the hologram droned on.

"Somebody shut him off!" Rassilon snapped his head toward his assistant. "Syrlian, go verify that the Doctor's TARDIS is still planet-side."

Syrlian scurried off while Vellicessa searched for the source of the hologram. She found the emitters hidden on the walls and ceiling, controlled by the bracelet the Doctor gave Donna that morning. Donna threw it on the floor. "Oh, he is going to regenerate."

It didn't take long for Syrlian to return. "Sir, the Doctor's TARDIS is absent."

Donna was sure there were so many places the Doctor had better not be with his ship.


	4. Chapter 4 - In Which Mars Went Missing

It took the Doctor until the day of the actual ceremony to show up. He arrived while several Time Lords were helping BBC and CNN test their recording equipment.

Donna peeked in at all the guests – Time Lords mostly, wearing the robes of the High Council. She was asking Vellicessa about all the faces she didn't recognize when the Time Lady interrupted her, tilting her head toward the hallway. "He's back."

Donna checked the hall for reporters. She couldn't see any other humans, so she went and decked the Doctor a good one.

He stumbled back, hand covering his cheek. "That hurt!"

"And what you did didn't? You used me! You gave me this sweet romantic gift and then it turns out to be a cover for you to ditch us for a week!"

He flinched. "I meant to be back earlier. I really did. But then things got a little rough."

She put her hands on her hips. "You still meant to ditch us. And you gave me a rubbish present."

He held his arms out in front of him. "I didn't mean to leave you here alone with the Time Lords. I just knew there was a possibility I might not make it back in time for rehearsal." He sighed. "There was a situation I thought was urgent."

"You could have told me that. Now I just think you're making up excuses." She noted that he didn't deny meaning to ditch.

He met her eyes. "I told you I had something to check up on before I left."

Vellicessa was standing there, stoic. "Any more and we risk Earth hearing about this. We should all get to the ceremony. Try to act as though you have no hard feelings between you."

"Of course." The Doctor's face took the same detached expression Donna was getting used to seeing on Time Lords.

She wasn't expected to repress her own emotions so well, was she? She closed her eyes and took a breath to gain what control she could. Then she followed the Time Lords toward the banquet hall. The Doctor stopped by the doorway and waited for her, just like they would have practiced at rehearsal. They entered side-by-side, as supposed equals.

Donna's lines were simple enough that she could give them easily, but that gave her mind plenty of space to stew about the argument. By the time Rassilon finished his long-winded speech, Donna was playing with her hands in her lap. She'd known she was marrying a man – an alien – who didn't want her. Who didn't even know her. She just hadn't expected him to toy with her heart when they both knew they had to live with the other until one of them died.

She wasn't even sure who to believe: the High Council, who treated her well but had more potential to abuse their power? or the Doctor, who was severely neglectful but claimed it was on account of his conscience? Even if she could tell their truths from their lies, she knew neither had any reason to trust her with the full story. She wasn't smart. She wasn't special. And, here, she was an alien.

The Doctor nudged her. "Hey, Donna. The speeches are over. They're bringing us the food. Won't that be nice? Real food?"

She looked away from him. "I guess."

The food would be a lot nicer if it didn't have marital drama as a flavoring.

The Doctor nudged her again and nodded toward Time Lords carrying small cups that Donna supposed had to be bigger on the inside. "Hey, Donna. That drink is called the Waters of Clarity. It's our closest equivalent to tea."

She watched as a pale pink liquid was poured into Rassilon's goblet. "Does it do half as good of a job at comfort?"

"Yes. Well, not per se, but it does help you to put your problems in perspective and see the simplest solution." The Doctor reached for her hand. "But you know what might comfort you as much as tea?"

Donna pulled her hand away. "Of course I don't know after only one week on your planet. What is it?"

"Actual tea." The Doctor took his hand back and let it dangle beside his chair. "I transferred my stock into our apartment. You can have some later."

Donna wrinkled her nose as something with tentacles was dished onto her plate. "What is that?"

"Wriggle fruit. It tastes like buttered popcorn. It's usually served with sweet spices. Everybody likes wriggle fruit."

The tentacles wriggled at Donna, who felt faintly sickened. "Are you sure that's fruit?"

"It's an evolutionary strategy to get attention so animals can scatter the seeds." The Doctor cut a chunk from his fruit and offered it to Donna on a spoon. "Try it. It's good."

Donna pushed the spoon aside. "I don't trust your presents anymore."

The Doctor took his spoon back. "It was otherwise a normal bracelet, and it actually did have your name in Gallifreyan."

"Yes, well, you blew it, Sunshine." Donna watched as a grayish-brown pudding was ladled into a bowl for her. Its color reminded her vaguely of coffee mixed with crumbled Oreos. Perhaps that food wouldn't taste so bad? It smelled similar to clove.

She picked up her spoon and tried some. It was incredibly bitter at first, but as she swallowed, she noticed an underlying sweetness. She could deal with the pudding. She could maybe even grow to like it.

"See, Twistyser sauce isn't so bad, is it?" the Doctor asked.

She filled her mouth to spare herself from answering.

The feast was spent sampling foods and giving the Doctor a cold shoulder. Afterwards, she left the Time Lords to deal with the paparazzi and returned to her new home. She closed herself in her room for the rest of the evening, citing her need to go to bed.

* * *

The next morning was a bit better. The Doctor wasn't home when Donna woke up, so there were no arguments, no excuses, and no lame apologies. She took her time in the shower. Then, seeing as she had no duties that day, she was able to get dressed in some human clothing – a purple blouse, a casual black jacket, and some dark-wash jeans.

She was happy to find some tea in the kitchen and some flavoring packets near the tin of nutrition cubes. She made herself a nice cuppa and picked out a little blue cube to eat. She still couldn't read the circular language on the flavorings, but she could at least sniff and have some memory of the taste, thanks to the night before. Finding a packet that smelled of Twistyser fruit, she smiled and poured it on her breakfast. She popped the meal into her mouth and found she was right about her suspicions – the flavor was growing on her.

Unfortunately, Donna wasn't sure what to do with herself that day. She supposed, now that she had time, she could go find out what Time Lords did for fun.

Before she made it out of the building, she and Vellicessa spotted each other. Vellicessa eased up on a scowl that was on her face and stepped toward Donna. "Have you seen the Doctor?" she asked. "He caused a disturbance at court this morning, and the Council's looking to lecture him about brushing you off in favor of making a nuisance of himself."

Donna raised her eyebrows. "Brushing me off how? Was he supposed to do something for me?"

Vellicessa nodded. "He's supposed to be taking the day off to get to know you. We thought it would be best after last night."

Just another duty the Doctor didn't fulfill. Whatever his problem was, his people hadn't managed to cure it in his – what? thirty? forty? much more, thanks to regeneration? – years of life. Maybe it was clinical. In any case, she wasn't sure how Demeter expected her to help, not that she'd seen her since Earth. "Are we sure he didn't take off in his TARDIS again?"

"His TARDIS was confiscated after the stunt he pulled last week. I suppose he could have taken another, but I'm to search the planet first." Vellicessa rubbed her forehead, closing her eyes.

Donna thanked herself for choosing a decent pair of walking shoes that day. "I don't know my way around as well as you do, but I can help you find him. Since he didn't come home, where else might he have gone?"

Looking for the Doctor would give her something to do at least. Vellicessa accepted her offer.

The Time Lady led Donna outside the city limits. They stopped just outside the Citadel dome. Vellicessa handed her something that looked like a big metal pill. "It's an emergency beacon," she explained. "There shouldn't be anything out here that wants to eat you, but humans are weak against stings, bites, and twisted ankles. Since you can't be trusted to take care of yourself-"

Donna snatched the beacon. "Thanks. So much. 'Cause we both know you Time Lords are perfect."

Vellicessa didn't blink an eye at Donna's sarcasm. "We'll meet back here by first sunset. I'll go this way."

"Wait!" Donna called after her. "How do I use this thing?"

"Just think about it."

Donna stuck the beacon in a jacket pocket and trudged off. Wandering an alien desert alone was not on the list of things she imagined she might be doing that day. She spent her time grumbling about cold-hearted Time Lords and their martian ways – she knew they weren't on Mars, but still.

She wandered past cliffs and around boulders. Her feet were starting to protest. Oh, why had she agreed to this, any of it? What was she except for a face for the cameras anyway? How was she any more use to anyone on Gallifrey than she was back home? Her marriage was just a formality, and it wasn't as though she even had any sway over her trouble-making husband.

Her stomach was starting to growl for lunch when she spotted something blue sitting on a rock – it was the Doctor wearing another of his human-style suits! Donna marched over to him. "There you are!"

He turned his head away.

Donna stopped beside him. "Oi, Spaceman! Look at me!"

He didn't. "Hello, Donna."

She bent down, put a hand on his cool cheek, and turned his face toward hers. His hands were curling into fists, his nostrils were flared, but his eyes were red and watery.

He pulled her hand off and averted his eyes. He took a loud breath, shoulders slumping. "The High Council sent you, didn't they?" There was no accusation, just resignation.

"They sent Vellicessa. I volunteered to help her."

He scoffed. "Friends with her, are you?" He got to his feet, turning his back toward Donna. "I'd be careful if I were you: she's nice enough, but you can only count on her if she's got something to gain."

As far as she knew, that went for all Time Lords. "Oi, Spaceman-"

"Whatever they want me for, I'm not interested." The Doctor kicked a round pebble with a well-worn white converse. "You can do me a favor and go home."

Why? So he could sulk about whatever he'd run from this time? Stepping forward, Donna placed a hand on his elbow. "What happened today?"

He looked at her, wide-eyed. "You mean you don't know? They must have told you I burst in on them while court was in session."

"They did. That's all they told me about this morning. That and you're in trouble for doing that instead of spending time with me." She met his eyes, silently daring him to look away.

He did. Hanging his head, he said, "I had an argument with the them, and I lost." He pulled away from her, shoving his hands in his pockets and trudging toward the city.

If the Doctor was out here alone to hide his emotions, was there a chance that this was about more than just his pride hurting? Donna started after him. "Does that make you any less of a person? No one wins everything."

He glowered at Donna's footprints, not yet smoothed by the intermittent breeze. "I should have. I was  _right."_ His stride lengthened to match her prints.

Or maybe it  _was_  just a case of hurt pride. Donna hurried to catch up with him, purposely dropping her jaw into a look of indigence. "Is this how you are when you don't get your way?"

"It was an argument about a little boy's right to life." The Doctor's eyes lifted and drilled into a boulder they were approaching. "They killed him right in front of me."

Something prickled in Donna's eyes. How horrible! She couldn't manage much more than a whisper. "Why?"

The Doctor was silent for a moment as he studied Donna's face, barely pausing to glance at the porous boulder he had to navigate around.

His gaze was starting to make Donna uncomfortable. "What?"

Gently, he asked, "Are you crying?"

"Of course I am, you dunce!"

He stopped. When she did too, he reached under her eyes with his thumbs and wiped the tears away. "I know what your family told me at the reception, and I thought…." He shook his head. "Never mind. I'm sorry. You don't know what's been going on here, do you?"

"No one tells me anything! Fat load of help  _you've_  been, gone for a week without giving me any idea how long you'd be gone. I thought you were running a quick errand before rehearsal."

The Doctor slipped his arm into hers and walked forward. She could see the city gate, now, off in the distance – go down the hill, weave up and down, cross the flats, meet the actual road and walk inside. "I hoped the rumors were just rumors," said the Doctor. "Missing planets, and some rogue Time Lords were responsible, continuing  _Rassilon's_ plan of all things…."

His gaze stuck on the horizon. Donna got the feeling he was taking in as much of the orange sky as he took in anything she'd said to his hologram. "Did you lose an argument about that too?"

"Nah. I won that one, and the Council agreed with me this time. Mars, Callufrax Minor, Jahoo, Shallacatop, Women Wept, Pyrovillia-" He flinched. "I'm sorry about Pompeii. It was let the Pyrovillian refugees transform your planet and your race to be like theirs – and  _enslaved_  at that – or make Vesuvius explode."

Donna stopped abruptly, making the Doctor stumble. "Pompeii?  _What_ are you talking about?" She removed her arm from his. "Don't think I'm moving until I get an answer."

Quickly, he summarized the Roman adventure he had while traveling in that spaceship time machine of his. His voice was smooth, almost hypnotic. If Time Lords had stronger psychic powers, she would suspect him of using them on her, but was this the sort of thing he got up to – poking his nose into stuff and blowing it up? Alone?

Donna wrapped her arms around him. Not alone anymore. At least, not when he came home.

He cut off the end of his story, inhaling sharply instead. His voice came out weak. "Donna?"

"Saving the universe is too big a job for single person, even for a Time Lord. I think you need someone to watch your back, share your burdens, and keep you from getting too big for your britches."

The Doctor placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back just enough to look into her eyes. His lips were parted, and he couldn't stop blinking. It was as though he were stunned. Then, finally…. "Are you offering?"

Donna's breath caught in her throat. It was all she wanted – a chance to make a difference to someone – but it scared her. He spent his days being a hero. She was a no one. "I'm just a temp from Chiswick. I can't-"

"But here you are – listening to me about Pompeii. And you're the only other person to mourn that boy." The Doctor's hands slid from her shoulders, brushing her arms, and taking her fingers in his. "You wanted to know what happened. Is that not sharing my burdens?"

She couldn't argue with that. "Well, I can do some of it, but I couldn't watch your back when you're doing something dangerous."

"I'm not asking you to. That's why I left you behind."

Why did her heart flutter when he looked at her like that – all round eyes and a bare hint of a smile? It was good to feel warm around her husband, she supposed, but he was still an alien. It was unexpected. "Promise me you'll find someone to help you when you're being a hero."

Her stomach growled, and the Doctor used that as an excuse not to answer. "Oh, look at you. It's past lunch time, and you're out here taking care of me! Let's get back and get you some food."

Food sounded good. Food sounded better than ever since she learned about the nutrition cubes. She peeked at the Doctor from under her eyelashes, giving them a bit of a flutter. "Real food?"

It seemed to work on him: his lips turned up and his cheeks tinged a touch warmer. "Yeah. The High Council wants us to get to know each other today. That sounds like reason enough to get some. There's a restaurant downtown. After that, I can show you around if you like."

Smiling, Donna pulled the Doctor toward the city. He didn't need much encouragement anymore. In fact, he had them jogging down the nearly-barren hill. Her heart sped up. Her breaths deepened. It was good exercise, but she wasn't quite used to this. "Not so fast! Do you think I want to run the whole way?"

"Sorry." He slowed, but the glint in his eye was unrepentant. "I thought you were hungry."

"You'd better distract me then. Tell me why the High Council murdered that kid and what we're going to do about it."

For a moment, she thought the Doctor wasn't going to answer. Then he took a deep breath. "There's nothing we can do for him anymore. It's too late. The only thing I can do is be more careful next time I find someone like him."

Donna found her steps speeding up in time with her heart. She didn't like the sound of a next time. "Someone like him?" What was that then? Someone whose parents deserted? An ethnic cleanse of an enemy race?

"There's a prophesy the Council thought might have been about him. It wasn't. Even if it were, he hadn't done anything yet. Time Lords, sometimes we worry more about our future than about right and wrong…."

Donna didn't hear the details of the prophesy as they traipsed back to the city, but she listened as the Doctor griped about the High Council. Try as she did, she couldn't get him to promise to always have back-up.


	5. Chapter 5 - In Which No Babies Swallow Paint

Their food tasted good enough, but Time Lords, Donna concluded, did not know how to have fun. At least, not in many of the ways humans had fun.

Instead of dance halls, the Time Lords had math halls. The halls were round rooms whose walls were covered in circular patterns that the Doctor swore were Gallifreyan numbers. Donna saw couples standing in front of the wall together, discussing equations. She hoped Pretty Boy never got it into his head that this was a romantic spot to take a human regularly.

Instead of soccer matches, the Time Lords had chess competitions. They were the ones who'd invented the game in the first place, according to the Doctor.

Donna didn't see what was so great about watching two people occasionally move metal pieces across the black-and-white table, but the Gallifreyans on the sidelines seemed perfectly entertained. She thought she heard them gossiping about politicians between moves, the same way her friends gossiped about celebrities back home. Maybe she would return, if just to meet people.

Instead of movies, Time Lords had poetry recitals. More precisely, the Doctor informed her, the Time Lords prophesy recitals put on by Gallifrey's advisers.

The outside of the recital hall looked like any other floor in its Gallifreyan skyscraper – a door with undecipherable writing on its front. Inside, a gray-haired Time Lady in a plain red robe greeted them. "Lord President Doctor. First Lady Donna. We were hoping we would entertain you today."

The Doctor nodded. "I'm not surprised."

The Time Lady smiled. "We have a private recital prepared for you two. This way."

Donna wasn't one for narrative poetry – non-fiction narrative poetry at that – but a private recital was a kind gesture. It made her feel posh. A perk of her new status.

She sneaked a glance at the Doctor's face as they were ushered into the theater through a nearby door, but he was wearing the Time-Lords-don't-show-feelings expression.

Donna rolled her eyes as they arrived on a balcony with two padded chairs. Below them was a stage where a Time Lady stood in a fancier red robe – a flowing silk-like robe with one of Gallifrey's ridiculous headdresses.

Donna scooted closer to the Doctor. "Any special rules here?"

He shrugged. "I never bother with them. Well, except for keeping your voice down in the audience. Well, unless it's one of those times that I have a reason worth getting kicked out."

She stared at him. Did he go around getting kicked out of places on purpose?

His eyes caught on something metallic on the wall of the stage. "They've turned on the holographic projector. That's unusual."

"Tonight's recital is especially for First Lady Donna," announced the reciter. "This is one of the few romance prophesies we have:  _An Alien on Gallifrey._ "

Donna gaped at the stage. "Is this for me or about me?" Perhaps there was some appeal to the recitations after all.

The Doctor crossed his arms. "They had better not mean they think it's about you."

She slapped his exposed fingers, glaring at him. "Would that be a bad thing? This is a romance, isn't it?"

The Doctor fixed his eyes on the stage, where the reciter looked as though she'd entered a trance. "This is part of a bigger story," he whispered, shivering. "But no, what I meant is that they aren't good at their job if they think it's about you. That's hardly what we need from our leadership."

The so-called beginning sounded as though it were indeed an extract from a longer story: "Well into that soul's regenerations, at the time of our great reparations…."

Behind the Time Lady was a 3D projection of a fully ruined Gallifreyan city. The Doctor inhaled sharply. "Arcadia."

"...an injured world with broken barricade…"

The Doctor pushed himself out of his chair, stooping toward Donna's ear. "This is insulting. Let's go."

Donna nodded toward the stage. "I want to hear this."

That was before the projection changed to a British clean-up team on the words "forced to accept even barbaric aid…."

She stood up. "Oi! Who are you calling barbaric, you stuck-up stick-in-the-mud?"

The Doctor tugged at her elbow. "Come on. I'll take you to the museum on the next floor instead. Humans like stuff like that too, yes? Paintings of random stuff like starry nights and women with mysterious smiles? Brilliant painters you had for those. Oh! But you'll never have seen paintings like ours before."

Donna couldn't quite tug her eyes away from the stage. It may have had something to do with the hologram behind the reciter: a solitary image of Donna in her wedding dress. She could just catch the tiny glint of the diamond already resting on her finger in its golden band. "...who gives away forever…."

Not that she believed in fate, but still, the fit was getting to her. Whatever was in the prophesy was something the Time Lords expected  _her_  to do. She never was able to live up to anyone's expectations before, so she smelled disaster coming regardless. She reached for the Doctor's hand. "Please tell me we're not in Pompeii, ignoring the smoking mountain."

He was silent for a moment. Donna worried that meant  _yes_  until she remembered that Pompeii was him, just recently. If she could kick herself, she would.

The Doctor led her out, keeping his voice low even as they left the balcony. "This is Gallifrey. We know when our volcanoes will erupt eons in advance. Besides, I have a feeling that you aren't going to have to see our next major tragedy." He grinned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. The stupid alien must have been more bothered by the prophesy than he was willing to let on.

"Doctor-"

"Anyway, do you like history?" The Doctor bounded out of the venue a little too quickly to convince Donna of his change in mood. "The current exhibit is about our planet's most definitive moments thus far, all pieces by artists of the time of course, so they're completely accurate."

Donna let him change the subject and show her to the museum instead. It was only up the stairs and through the first door. They entered a narrow front hallway, where the Doctor nodded to a man at the reception desk, then he led her around to a semicircular front room. A painting the size of a car was displayed in the center, against the far point of the wall, and her mouth dropped when she caught sight of it.

She was looking at three large, cylindrical machines. Inside each, yellow energy strands zipped from the ceiling down into humanoid - or Time Lord-oid - shapes: two adults and one child. On either side, crowds of Time Lords and Time Ladies watched. Although they were facing away, their heads were turned just enough toward the machines that Donna could see their smiles.

Whenever she moved, the painting's perspectives shifted, as though the flat canvas really had depth.

"It's not an illusion," said the Doctor. "It's bigger on the inside. A single moment frozen in time. That machine and those sculptures in there – those are real."

Donna thought that she really should stopped being surprised at what the Time Lords were capable of. It was really something though. She wasn't normally one for art any more than she was one for poetry, but the dimensional trick took her breath away. "What's the scene of?"

The Doctor joined her a step closer to the painting. "That is our first Loomhouse. A long time ago, we all but lost our biological means to reproduce. Very few of our females are actually fertile. That machine made it possible for the majority of our population to have children again. We may have gone too far actually - it's illegal to have womb-born children now."

Of all the alien things Donna had seen, this just might take the cake. Not that it made any difference in the Time Lords' personhood, but it seemed hardly the most romantic way to do things: just go to a factory and watch a machine make a new person.

At least she could have a little fun with this. She jokingly prodded the Doctor's chest. "So you are grown in a laboratory? Little genetic experiments?"

"Oh Donna, it's not like that."

He'd walked right into it. Donna grinned to herself.

"It's not to make a super race or anything. Well, not entirely. But those are people, and they've always been acknowledged as such on Gallifrey. And the technology is hardly experimental anymore. And…." The Doctor's eyes stopped on Donna's lips. "You're having me on, aren't you?"

She leaned in. "You're easy."

"Doctor. Donna." Demeter glided from the entrance, as stoic as usual. She was wearing the red robes Donna had seen the last time she'd seen her.

Donna greeted the Time Lady.

The Doctor bent toward Donna's ear. "You know her?"

"Yeah. She was the one who asked me to marry you." When Donna looked up, the Doctor was wearing the Time Lord poker face yet again. She felt like the newest character in a long-running serial. Maybe a serial stretching back into television's black-and-white days. "Is that a problem?"

The Doctor smiled a little too quickly. "No, no. I'm glad I could marry someone willing to be friends."

Demeter stopped a few paces away from them. "Was our selection not to your liking?"

The Doctor stared Demeter down. "If you're talking about the recital, then no. It was more than a bit insensitive. Donna's not familiar enough with the prophesy to understand how deep the offense was, but I know she didn't enjoy the human race being called barbaric."

Demeter stared back. "Is that how it translated? Why didn't you change the setting from making rhymes to preserving meaning? We've taken a recess of  _An Alien on Gallifrey._  You should come finish listening."

Donna's heart sank.  _An Alien on Gallifrey._  Demeter was insisting. Despite what the Doctor said, the prophesy was about her, wasn't it? "Oi-"

The Doctor's voice was hushed but harsh. "I'll give you a point for using the least offensive of the titles. But still,  _An Alien on Gallifrey._  An  _alien._ Are you trying to make her feel unwelcome, just because she has one teeny little thing in common with the subject of that prophesy? One teeny, nano-quark-sized-"

Demeter broke poker face with a tightening of her lips. "It's not a similar situation: it's  _the_  situation."

Neither Time Lord was raising a voice, but both were tense, and neither had ended the staring contest either. Other museum patrons were glancing their way.

Donna had to put a stop to this. "Oi!"

"It is  _not_  the same," the Doctor said.

Demeter raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it?"

"No." The Doctor calmed. "No, it's not."

"Oi!" Donna stepped between the two Time Lords. "Which one of you wants to explain what you're arguing about?"

Both Time Lords were quiet for a moment. Demeter was looking over Donna's shoulder with her brows up, as though trying to silently tell the Doctor something. Finally, the Doctor took Donna's hand and guided her to his side. He promptly released her. "It's nothing. Just an intellectual debate."

"And I swallowed lead paint as a baby." Donna crossed her arms. "What were you really arguing about?"

The Doctor blinked. "Lead paint? Isn't that a bit toxic for humans? Why would you-"

"I didn't swallow paint as a baby, dumbo." And here she thought Time Lords understood sarcasm. "Just answer my question."

It was Demeter who answered. "We were arguing about whether you could be the subject of one of the Matrix's prophesies. You are, but the Doctor doesn't want to believe it."

Donna had figured that much out for herself, thank you very much. What she needed to know was what the prophesy actually was. The Time Lords clearly believed whatever their computer predicted, so perhaps she could learn what Demeter and the others really wanted from her.  _Keep the Doctor in line._  Yeah, right! Keep him from doing the right thing, more like. What were they up to? "We can finish listening?"

The Doctor glared at her and shook his head. He lowered his voice, eyes on Demeter. "There are several things that would have to be true that aren't if it were about Donna. Are you claiming that such things are in fact true?"

Demeter leveled her gaze to his. "The alien will be the greatest help and support to her husband. She is the one who can best influence how he will fulfill his own destiny. She-"

"Take. It. Back." The Doctor was clenching his fists. "We are not who you think we are."

Was Donna meant to be insulted too? At least being the Doctor's greatest help and support sounded much better than keeping him in line. She had to hear the rest of the prophesy now, if just to guess where Demeter's loyalties lay. "Doctor-"

Her voice went unheard.

Just for a moment, Demeter's eyes widened. "What do you think you are, Doctor?"

"What do you think I am?" The Doctor's words were so low that Donna could barely hear them.

Demeter stepped forward and placed a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "She is. You are. Take good care of her. Love her. Gallifrey needs her, and so do you." With that, Demeter turned and strolled off.

"It  _was_  a private recitation?" The Doctor called after her.

"Absolutely. A wedding gift for a VIP couple. The High Council doesn't know." Demeter walked around the entranceway without looking back.

Donna watched her until the door slid shut behind her. "Who does she think we are?"

"Bad omens probably," the Doctor whispered, "which is a much more favorable interpretation than most Gallifreyans have. She's wrong, but she's going to get us killed if she decides to convince anyone else."

"Isn't it her job to interpret Matrix prophesies?" Donna wished she knew why the Doctor hated the prophesy so much that he thought he knew better than the experts. She shivered. If there was anything to the Time Lords' prophesies - not that there was - then this really was Pompeii. But how to convince the Doctor to go back and listen?

The Doctor snorted. "Yeah. Supposedly, she has a few seer-like talents of her own too." He took her hand and started to walk toward the next painting.

No, it wasn't just some computer these people believed in. Nut jobs. The lot of them. She was willing to bet their so-called seers were honored too. "Is that what her white set of robes means?"

No sooner was the question out of Donna's mouth than the Doctor was shushing her, squeezing her hand more tightly than he probably realized. He glanced around and pulled them through the exhibit until he found a clear side room. The only thing within it was a single painting displayed horizontally on a bit of floor raised to waist-height. At a glance, it looked like how Donna imagined the Citadel had looked before the war.

The Doctor pulled them back behind the painting and had them squat behind its low wall. He looked at Donna wide-eyed. "This is important. I need the details of these robes you mentioned, and I'd rather not have them said out loud, just in case. We've already said too much in public as it is."


	6. Chapter 6 - In Which Donna is a Gremlin

"How am I supposed to tell you more about them here if I can't describe them aloud?"

The Doctor put a finger on Donna's lips. She glared at him for it, but said nothing.

Wincing a bit at her glare, the Doctor silently searched Donna's face for who-could-guess-what, leaving her nothing to do but count his freckles. Then, he moved his finger from her lips to her left temple. He started to mirror the position with his other hand, but he stopped a few inches away. "Did you know Time Lords are slightly telepathic? We can enter each others' minds through touch."

Touch. Vellicessa didn't tell her that. Of course no one else told Donna all these things about Time Lords when she agreed to marry one of their kind either. It's not as though she might need to hear about it. "You want to read my mind for it?"

"Is that okay?" he asked. "It'll just be that one memory. I promise I won't snoop around."

Donna scowled. Was this so common on Gallifrey that the Doctor almost forgot to ask before doing it to a human? She didn't like the idea of Time Lords entering her most private space any time they felt like it.

"Or," the Doctor continued hastily, "you could try to push the image into my mind. It's quite a bit harder, but it will guarantee your privacy."

She wasn't a qualified psychic or anything. Oh, he had better not pry. "Just the one memory?"

"Yeah." The Doctor set his fingertips on her right temple. "What do you want?"

She couldn't believe she was saying yes to this. "So long as it's just the one memory, I guess you could read my mind."

The Doctor drew a loud breath through his nose and shut his eyes. Her temples felt warm. Then, and she didn't have words to adequately describe it, but she felt his presence. It was similar to the feeling of a new acquaintance in the same room as her, just sharing the space in polite silence.

"Donna," the Doctor whispered aloud, "I need you to think about that robe."

She did. She remembered it was white and flowing and that Demeter wore some sort of pendant with it. Suddenly, the other details filled in with perfect clarity: the cap, the two rings and keyhole – no, that shape was more like a stylized infant – on the pendant, the recycling bin the TARDIS took as a disguise.

The Doctor pulled out quickly, releasing Donna's temples at the same moment. His eyes snapped open. His pupils were wide. His face white. He stared over Donna's shoulder, but there was nothing there when she checked.

She waved a hand in front of his face. "Are you alright?"

Blinking, he jumped to his feet. "No immediate danger, but I need to tell you something when we get home. Not a word or a thought to anyone." He offered her a hand. "Come on."

The suns were sinking when they left the museum, the sky blackening into night. Where did the time go? She'd left Vellicessa hanging. "I completely forgot, what with all the drama today and the sights!"

The Doctor looked at her. "What?"

"Vellicessa. We said we'd meet up by first sunset."

He held out a hand. "Don't worry about that. Where's that communicator she gave you?"

Wondering how he'd known, Donna pulled the metal pill out of her pocket. "You mean this thing?"

"It's a simple telepathic circuit." The Doctor took it from her hand. "I doubt it would send a message for you unless you were in distress, but it would alert Demeter of my presence when it's close enough to me. She knows you found me." He reached into his own pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He bleeped the pill and, nodding, placed it in his pocket. "I didn't think she'd bugged it, but I wanted to be sure that conversation hasn't reached Gallifrey already. The top brass I mean."

The Doctor spoke to her of light topics as they made their way back to their quarters, but his demeanor changed the moment he'd secured the door behind them. He stood, hands pressed against the door. "Those robes belonged to the Children of the Waters, a rogue sisterhood that arose during the Time War. They want the prophesies of Gallifrey's destruction to come to pass, so much that they try to make it happen."

Donna couldn't see the Doctor's face, but she could see his tense shoulders and hear his grave tone. She bit her lip. "So she belongs to a cult?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Not quite, but I suppose a cult would be Earth's closest equivalent."

Yeah, some cultist.

The Doctor slowly turned around, brows and lips heavy on his face. "The point is that she can't be trusted. Don't let her influence any more of her decisions, and…." His frown deepened. "Don't expose her. There's too many people that could get killed if we blab."

"You mean us."

"Oh, yes." He took her hand and led further into the front room. "Not just us though. You see, as bad as they are, at least the Children of the Waters don't go around killing innocents out of paranoia. They're known to keep the secrets that could get others executed, so if Demeter gets caught and interrogated…."

They stopped feet away from the desk where the Doctor made Donna a hologram-projecting bracelet. She glanced over at him. "Why did Demeter let me see her in her cult robes if she knew I'd be coming here?"

"Dunno." He glared at a spindly gadget on a desk. "Could be she thinks we have something to hide."

Donna squeezed her arms. "She thinks we could be the ones to destroy Gallifrey."

The Doctor stepped over to the desk and dug through its drawers. "We aren't." He stopped, eyes peeping at Donna's cheek. He took a breath. "You know that there's no concept of divorce on this planet, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. What of it?"

"Do you know why?"

She never gave much thought to it. It wasn't as though she'd never heard of societies without divorce before. "No. Why?"

"Because there can't be. Not in a Gallifreyan-style marriage." The Doctor returned to searching his mess. "We couldn't get a divorce here either because, technically, Gallifrey doesn't recognize our marriage. The High Council is just pretending. It's very suspicious actually."

"What do you mean we're not married?" Donna's voice rose steadily. "There was that ceremony recognizing me as your wife and everything!"

"If it were real, they would have made you write a speech. If it were real, they would have allowed you to meet my surviving family. If it were real, they would have modified our wedding to include the Galifreyan bit." He pulled something out of a drawer and closed it, fist concealing whatever he was holding from Donna. "I hoped that if they were behind Clom's disappearance, then I could get a clue to their schemes there. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Donna slapped him. "Why didn't you say anything earlier, you prawn?"

He rubbed his cheek, wincing. "One: I didn't want to worry you. Two: I thought you'd still get what you intended out of this marriage. And C – no wait, three: this is very selfish of me, but as long as the High Council pretends to consider us married, I can't be married off to anyone else. Who knows who I'd end up with?"

"Do you consider us married?" Donna crossed her arms and waited for an answer.

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck with his fist. "Well, I-"

"Do you consider us married?"

"Yes. Married enough, I suppose. It's only fair to you. Unless you don't want to consider us married?"

She groaned. "That's the only reason you'd ever consider us married, isn't it? Because it's only fair to the woman who wasn't told it was all a fake."

"No." The Doctor sought out her eyes. "I have a much better reason than that. Because of how and where I came into the universe, I can't ever have a choice in who I marry. But I'd always hoped I would marry someone I could be on good terms with." He gulped. "Given what I just told you, do you consider us married?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, I consider us mother and son. Of course I consider us married! I'm not from the planet that doesn't."

The Doctor grinned. "Good. That's very good. That will make it harder for Demeter to make you fit the prophesy."

Relaxing enough to plop into the Doctor's chair, Donna asked, "What is it I'm avoiding anyway?"

"Entering a Gallifreyan-style marriage with  _anyone."_  The Doctor showed her what was in his hand – it was a long piece of red string. "Watch out for anyone asking you to wrap something like this around your hand and theirs, but even more importantly, don't let any of us whisper our true name into your ear. That's how we form a permanent mental bond. That's what marriage is here."

Donna shuddered. "A mental link? I wouldn't want to have some alien in my head all the time anyway."

Shaking his head, the Doctor put the string back in the drawer. "I didn't think so. Good night, Donna."

"Good night? I'm not going to bed yet."

"I know." He slipped his hands in his pockets. "I'm going to do some sleuthing. I'll take back-up with me, so don't worry."

"And you're leaving me here?"

"I know you weren't comfortable watching my back when I'm doing something dangerous. Quite frankly, I don't want to risk your life either if I can help it." Throwing one last smile at her, he said, "I'll be back."

She got the feeling he wasn't telling her everything.

* * *

Donna woke mid-morning with an idea of what to do with the rest of the day. She stumbled to the kitchen. "Doctor? Are you here?"

The Doctor poked his head in. "Donna? What is it?"

She covered a yawn. "I want some everyday robes I can wear around town." Almost absent-mindedly, she reached for the kettle.

Eyeing the boxes of tea that Donna was choosing among, the Doctor entered the kitchen properly. "I thought you brought clothes from Earth."

"I did, but I'll fit in better if I don't purposely remind everyone that I'm an alien."

He blinked. "Fit in?" He stared at the wall, eyes glazing over.

"Is that an alien concept to you?" Donna ran her eyes up and down his tall, skinny, pinstriped form. "Oh, who am I kidding? You've never fit in among your own people, have you?"

"Nope!" The Doctor rocked on his heels. "I never saw the point."

Donna searched through the cupboards for some teacups. "The point is to make people more open to you. They're more likely to help you out and tell you stuff if they think you're like them." She took out two plain blue teacups out of a cupboard and a pair of matching saucers. "I thought I might harvest ideas from the rumor mill about what the High Council is playing at with our marriage."

A grin spread across the Doctor's face. "Donna Lungbarrow, you are brilliant! A bit domestic, mind you, but still brilliant."

"Oi! Is domestic a bad thing?"

He pressed his lips together. "I don't do domestic. That's all you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Making sure we're stocked on tea, introducing me to Gallifreyan food, showing me around the city we live in, taking our marriage more seriously than your government does, what do you call all that then?"

The Doctor stared at her. She watched as first he blinked, then his eyes lit up, and finally he said, "Oh."

"Yeah, oh." She smirked as she took off the kettle. "It's not all bad, is it?"

The Doctor took a moment to select himself a teabag. He set it to steep before he finally said, "I think I have an old robe somewhere in my closet from my last body. Nah, too big. I'll just have to give you directions to where you can get your own."

"Great." Donna grinned. Her first shopping trip on Gallifrey! Now this was the sort of adventure she liked. "Have time to walk me through the local currency?"

He shook his head. "Oh, but we don't use currency."

"Credit?"

"Nope."

"Then what do you do for money?"

He laughed. "Donna, Time Lords don't use money. There's a slight psychological difference between our species that makes us less inclined to chase after stuff than humans are."

Donna gestured around the apartment. "And yet you all have more space to store your stuff. Everything's bigger on the inside around here."

The Doctor parted his teacup from his lips. "I never said we don't like our stuff. We're just more fixated on acquiring political status than on economic status. Duty and recognition are usually better at motivating a Time Lord to work than money is. Of course, it helps that none of us have lacked basic material needs for a very long time. Well, that was the case before the Time War anyway. Still, we've got the most basic survival needs covered."

Donna had almost forgotten about the war. These people were still rebuilding. It wasn't that she didn't need the robes, but she regretted just the one moment when she was excited about an alien shopping spree. "How bad are the living conditions?"

"Oh, not bad. There are entire cities living in temporary housing, but each family has at least the space of that church we were married in. Everyone has clean water – hot and cold – and full servings of nutrition cubes." The Doctor glanced at her. "Everyone has the same amount of clothing they had before the war if that's what you're worried about. It's our infrastructures and some specialized stuff that needs to be rebuilt."

Donna relaxed. "So a shopping trip is harmless?"

"Oh, I'm sure the tailor will be happy to have some business. It will feel like things are going back to normal. Hold on." The Doctor set down his empty teacup and strode out of the room.

He returned several minutes later with a circular pendant that flowed with water-like lines in its open center. "This is the seal of Lungbarrow. Wearing it will show my status when you're out shopping." He slipped it over her head and handed her a note. "This will explain that you're authorized to use it for the day. Don't worry about payment or over-shopping or anything. The shopkeepers will explain if anything you want to acquire is above my status."

The Doctor stayed home, saying that he wanted to finish a bug that he was planning to slip on Vellicessa before she gave some report or other to the High Council, but he gave Donna a cheery goodbye. She followed his directions to the tailor's.

Fifteen minutes later, she was holding a pose for a Time Lord, a bathrobe-like garment wrapped around her body. The tailor finished marking the silver fabric and unwrapped Donna. Sniffing, he wrinkled his nose slightly. "I'd suggest at least ten sets for you, plus two spare formal sets. Do you want any headbands?"

"Not if they clash with my hair." There was far too much red on this planet for Donna's comfort there.

The tailor crossed his arms, shaking slightly. "What quality of artist do you take me for? I know my colors better than that."

"Fine then. I'll take a few." If they didn't work, it wasn't as though Donna was spending any money on them.

"Let's have you pick out the themes."

Donna followed the tailor and picked from hundreds of similar line designs for the hems, sashes and bands. Then she was shoved from the shop with a "Come back in two hours. That's two  _Gallifreyan_ hours, missy."

She browsed the other shops while she was waiting. Books. Useless to her. Boots. She got a few pairs. Bracelets. She picked some out, wishing that the shop had watches. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen any time pieces since she came to live with the Time Lords.

The tailor huffed at her when she got back, her new clothes waiting on the counter. "I said two hours, missy."

"Sorry." She stepped toward the counter. "Are they done?"

"They've been done for thirty-eight minutes, eleven point five seconds exactly!"

The tailor spent the next hour lecturing Donna on what was fashionable to wear together and why, how she could tie the bands in her hair, and what wardrobe mistakes she should never ever make on Gallifrey. Finally, a Time Lord who made sense! Donna was happy to ask him questions, and he seemed to enjoy showing off his expertise.

He threw in some new undergarments and a bigger-on-the-inside pouch to carry everything in. What a kind man! Donna thanked him and returned back to the apartment to change.

The Doctor was still there, sitting in the front room and listening to a metal pill warble out some long words. He sent it several frowns as he took notes.

Donna shot him a thumbs up and went to the washroom to freshen up. She put on a flowing red robe that matched her hair exactly. It had flowers near the hems and came with a belt-sash with white stripes the color of her hair sash. She tied the back half of her hair up and picked out a silver bracelet with three red-and-orange beads.

Tying her pouch to her belt-sash, she stepped out of the washroom. She spotted the Doctor looking up from his work, pen stalled above a half-drawn circle as his gaze followed her to the door.

It was good to know that he was attracted to her. Her womanly wiles wouldn't have to go totally to waste.

Donna waved her husband goodbye. He waved goodbye back, a goofy grin beneath two sparkling eyes. Feet light, she made her way to the chess club.

A game was in progress when she arrived. People clapped politely as a wrinkled old man swapped a pawn for a knight.

Pawn. Knight. Those were what the pieces were called, weren't they? Donna would have to build up her chess knowledge if she was going to pull this off.

She scanned the sidelines for some likely friends. Oh, there! A young-looking Time Lady with an unfortunate break-out was telling two others that her father was piloting a TARDIS to and from Earth.

"I'm sorry, but did you say Earth?" Donna stepped into the circle the Time Lady formed with her friends.

At last, some aliens whose looks she wasn't instantly jealous of. In the group, there was only one Time Lady and two Time Lords.

The Time Lady had short hair as red as Donna's. In addition to her pimples, she had a severe case of redness and some crooked teeth.

She was standing next to a Time Lord with long, black hair that had pieces braided around his head, adorned with flowers. Across from them was an almost middle-aged-looking Time Lord with a nose that took up half his face.

Donna had their attention. The Time Lady blinked at her. "You don't feel Time Lord."

They'd noticed already. Somehow. No point in hiding it then. "I'm not. My name is Donna. I'm human. From Earth."

The Time Lords exchanged looks. "She must be the one they got for the Doctor," said the one with flowers in his hair. "I told you he had a thing for humans. Look, she's even ginger."

"So she's a Gremlin?" The Time Lady and the Flower man stepped closer to each other, whispering too softly for Donna to hear.

A what? Were those real? Did they have them on this planet? Donna lowered her eyebrows. "A Gremlin? Oi, what do you take me for?"

Their eyes bore into Donna's face. "Yes, definitely a Gremlin for him."

The Time Lord with the big nose cleared his throat. "Whatever you two are saying, it sounds bad. I know the situation, but I don't think she does. Perhaps we could occupy her time, away from the Doctor?"

His friends agreed. Donna didn't mind: it would make her task easier while it lasted.

"I'm sorry about them," said the big-nosed Time Lord. "Those two have a language of their own. I don't understand half of what they say either, and I'm a brother to one of them. You may call me Terraviel. Those two are Himecien and Myecet."

Flower Boy glared at him. "It's Hime _cet!_  Why do you always have to call me Himecien in this body?"

Terraviel glared at him. "Are you trying to disgrace our house in public? Your hair is bad enough. Why can't you just accept your new role?"

Himecien touched one of his flowers. "This is the Citadel. Things are different here. Besides, Mum grew these in her garden."

"I meant the length, you imbecile." But there wasn't much heat in Terraviel's comment. He'd folded his arms into his sleeves and was looking at the orange granite floor. "I think people understand about Mum's flowers after everything."

Himecien's expression mirrored his brother's. Myecet's face was similarly solemn.

Donna could feel her heart breaking for these people. "It must have been a terrible war."

Himecien started sobbing into Terraviel's robes. His brother just stood there, empty-eyed.

"It was the worst," Myecet said, wrapping her arms around herself. "Be glad your Earth didn't see it. The three of us came from a little town called the Crossroads. It was totally destroyed. Those of us who survived have to live here in the Citadel until it's rebuilt, but even if we could go home, it would feel empty." She sniffed. "The High Council says we might get some of the Looms working again soon, thanks to the ores from your planet. It's far from here, but there aren't as many Time Lords left to use them anyway. Can you imagine? A townful of little ones running through the streets that your people are cleaning up!"

Donna smiled for Myecet's sake. "Yeah, imagine the little ones. The Time Lords will pull through this."

Donna spoke through the match with her new friends, allowing Myecet to purge some feelings rather than engaging in gossip about Donna's marriage to the Doctor.

The Doctor greeted her when she returned back to the apartment. "How'd it go?"

She wiped her eyes. "The people of Gallifrey, we've got to do something for them."

"I know."


	7. Chapter 7 - In Which Donna Meets the Doctor's Potted Plant

A week passed with Donna taking frequent trips to the chess club. She split her time between socializing there and chatting up the more office-type workers in the capital building.

At home, the Doctor's behavior was changing slightly. He paced. He rubbed his neck and snapped at Donna far too easily. He spent hours gazing out at the stars.

"I'm sorry," he said one day after arguing about a shattered teacup. "I'm not used to being in one place for so long."

"You've been driving the other big wigs up the wall too." Donna handed him a dustpan and started sweeping up the smaller bits of shattered china. "I'm surprised no one's done anything about it yet."

The Doctor gingerly picked up one of the larger pieces of teacup. "Since the war, they only let me off-planet when they're up to something here. Otherwise, they keep a close eye on me. I'm a dog on a leash. I used to be able to get away more easily."

"Yeah, well, you're Lord President now." Donna rolled her eyes. "Supposedly, you're too busy for a holiday, or even a humanitarian trip." That gave her an idea. "What do they actually have you doing all day?"

He emptied the dustpan with a little more force than necessary. "Processing paperwork."

Donna could get someone to cover for him then. "Do you think you could get some pictures of a damaged city or something?"

He blinked. "I suppose. Why?"

"Give me two days. I bet I can get us a trip off this planet."

"Us?" The Doctor's eyes lit up. "You mean you'll come too?"

She smirked. "Just try to leave me behind, Sunshine."

"Pictures?" He asked again. His eyes widened. "Oh, pictures! That is brilliant. We'll be going to Earth then?"

"You can get them, you mean?"

He laughed and took her hands. "I can get them overnight. Lots of pictures. The best, most heart-breaking pictures." His joviality faded as he went on. "We do need the help, but the High Council's egos aren't going to want to ask for charity. Do you think you can pull it off in spite of them?"

She squeezed his fingers, meeting his eyes with her most reassuring smile. "I might not know about ruling a planet, but I do know that no one wants to deal with the annoying person at any office. If this falls through, I'll still be able to work something else out to get you a break for a bit."

"Thanks. I-" He let go of Donna's hands as though she'd burned him. "Did you just call me an annoying office worker?"

"That's what you are, aren't you? A great, big Gallifreyan paper-pusher with a posh title and the self-importance of a sun." Donna tried not to laugh at his face, which looked as though he'd had a good slap, but she couldn't keep it all in. She patted his arm. "I've got your back."

* * *

It was easier than expected for Donna to get an audience with Rassilon's personal aide. Perhaps the Time Lords weren't as busy as they probably should have been with rebuilding the planet, or perhaps they were just being nice to Donna, but either way, she found herself sitting across a marble desk from Syrlian the next morning.

The office wasn't so different than what she'd find on Earth – wooden chairs with padding, a neat stack of papers on the crimson desk, and a window looking out at the city's towering buildings. This gave Donna some courage. Sure the sky outside was orange, sure the writing was all in circles, and sure Syrlian wore a robe and headdress, but Donna had gotten very used to that. This was still just an office. Anyone could be sitting here, and so she set a flier on the Time Lord's desk, with some flattened versions of the Doctor's 3D photos.

A barn was missing its roof and half of its blackened walls. Its stalls sat empty, except for scorched rubble. Straw was scarce and burnt. Beside it was a large patch of black – a few household possessions barely recognizable: a jar, a chest, a little girl's doll.

Skyscrapers lay on their sides like dominoes. Glass and mangled metal littered the streets, interrupted only by white sheets that covered people-sized lumps. A pale hand poked out from under one of the smaller ones.

A casual-robed crowd looked emptily at the camera in little groups. A woman held her arms as though cradling a baby, but there was nothing there. Two children stood in front of a crouching man, no mother in the picture.

Syrlian glanced at the flier. "What's that?"

"There are already humans helping with clean-up, but this is a proposition to get more. It won't cost you anything, and the trip will get the Doctor out of your hair for a little while." Donna leaned forward. "You won't be the one picking up his slack this time either. I've already got a substitute lined up if this goes through."

Syrlian frowned and skimmed the flier. Did he actually know her language, or did the translators work on written English despite not working on Gallifreyan? Soon, he tossed the flier back toward Donna. "You want us to beg for charity?"

"No, I want the Doctor to get Gallifrey cleaned up faster by promising some humans an adventure. The High Council can take the credit for the work."

Syrlian stood up, sighing. "Wait here."

He left Donna alone in his office. She passed the time by guessing the purpose of all the alien gadgets in his office. There was a hologram left up in the corner – a globe of Gallifrey marked with black and green. It wasn't hard to imagine a use for that. There was something that looked like a much-adjustable compass/straight-edge combo – a handwriting aid? There was also a flat disc that Donna supposed had to be a paperweight with some motivational phrase or another on its top.

Syrlian returned after a while. "How many images of Gallifrey do you have?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. A hundred? I think the Doctor got a little carried away."

"We'll need all of them handed over. Every copy."

"Was it wrong to have them made?" Donna asked, getting started by handing over some alternate fliers that she'd carried in a black briefcase from Earth.

"They will be archived. No unapproved image is to leave Gallifrey." Syrlian's tone was gruff, his face irritated, but Donna was more interested in what lay between his lines. That second sentence had sounded more like a condition than a reprimand.

"So that's a  _no_  to the fliers and a  _yes_  to the trip then?"

Syrlian nodded almost imperceptibly. "The first trip will be recruitment only. Each volunteer's background must be checked by the Doctor personally. Volunteer trips to Gallifrey must be scheduled and carefully supervised. They may not last more than fourteen Gallifreyan hours."

"That sounds reasonable."

The Time Lord spoke over Donna instead of acknowledging her comment. She was reminded for a moment of the holographic Doctor's manners, but worse, Syrlian's holding the fliers meant that he was real and actually ignoring her. "We sent Vellicessa to inform the Doctor and collect the remaining images. You are to speak with our scheduler immediately and depart for Earth directly after. You will find your husband's TARDIS in the materialization room. You have one Earth week."

Friendly guy, wasn't he? Still, Donna thanked him like any grumpy boss and headed out to speak with the scheduler.

Half an hour later, she teleported into the round, high-up room where she'd once had her first look at Gallifrey. There in the center was a blue police telephone box. British. On Gallifrey. It wasn't doing a good job of blending in, was it?

Leaning against the box was the Doctor, a true smile on his face. "One week. Anywhere on Earth in your time. We may be able to squeeze in a side-trip too. Anything take your fancy?"

"Someplace warm."

"Someplace warm it is then." He opened the door with a snap of his fingers and led her into a bronze-colored console room with columns of coral. "So what do you think?"

Donna eyed a lever handle that was tied together with a length of green thread. "When I learned you had your own ship, I never pictured a fixer-upper."

"Oi! Don't knock the TARDIS!" The Doctor's voice was light though. He practically bounced over to the console and started messing with the controls.

"So when's the rest of the crew going to get here?"

"There's no crew. It's just me. Hello." He gave a little wave before looking at a screen. "Oh, I know! How about Florida? How does that sound? It's been a while since I've been to Florida."

Donna found a seat. "Lovely."

The Doctor grinned. "Hold on tight. Here we go!"

He buzzed around the console like a honeybee on caffeine, hopping as from one bright flower to another. The ride wasn't as smooth as Donna's previous TARDIS flight, a light shaking livening the trip. The Doctor was laughing and bouncing like the madman he was. "What do you think?" he asked. "Faster, Old Girl? My wife, Donna, is here, and it's her first time traveling with us."

Boys and their toys. Donna snorted. "Are you talking to your ship? Is it about as sane for a Time Lord to talk to an inanimate object as it is for a human to do so?"

The TARDIS jolted in response. Donna was sent flying straight out of her belt-less seat and into the Doctor's arms. He in turn was knocked into the console, his rear hitting a button that made cacophonous static blast into the room.

Reflexively, Donna pulled her hands off the Doctor's surprisingly-nice abs to cover her ears. She caught him staring at her chest and slapped him. "Oi! My eyes are up here, Spaceman!"

"Sorry." He pushed himself fully upright and lent Donna a hand to steady her. He turned and busied his hands with the controls, turning the static off. "I bumped the radio. It can get any music station within ten galaxies and two hundred years. That is, when it's tuned properly."

A small shake unsteadied them both and distracted the Doctor. "Behave!" he shouted at the TARDIS. "She didn't know. I'll explain it to her, okay?"

Donna stared at him. That went beyond normal male infatuation with a vehicle. "Doctor, I mean it this time: should I be worried about you? You're talking to your ship as though it's alive."

"She is alive. TARDISes are sentient beings. They can't communicate the same ways you and I normally do, but they are highly telepathic." The Doctor stroked one of the ship's panels.

Donna crossed her arms. "You're pulling my leg."

"No, really." The Doctor ran around behind Donna and circled to her side. Without warning, he took one of Donna's hands and held it to a hard touch pad on the panel. She got the faint feeling of being poked in her middle finger. The Doctor leaned in. "Did you feel that? That's her. Say hello, Donna."

His eyes lingered on her. Oh, if he thought he was having a good laugh, he had another thing coming. Donna removed her hand from the touch pad. "I know your technology is telepathic. That doesn't mean it's alive. Vellicessa told me."

The Doctor licked his lips. "Well, you see, it's like this. Someone gives you a piece of firewood. That firewood has a lot in common with a living plant – cells, chemical make-up, evidence of growth – but that doesn't mean it's a living thing. But if someone gives you a potted plant and it has some things in common with a living plant, it's because it's very much a living plant, isn't it?"

Donna glanced around the console room. She held her eyes longer on the struts of coral than on the metal that surrounded them. "You travel through time and space in a potted plant?"

"Yep." The Doctor held out his hand. "That's what a TARDIS is – a telepathic species of coral inside a great big machine. A sentient species of coral, mind you, but they're happy to be potted, so to speak. The heart of a TARDIS is a nice place for them to be."

Donna gave the Doctor her hand and he held it to the panel. "Hello," she said to it, feeling a bit silly. She felt another poke, and then something pressed itself against her palm. The ship's background hum grew a bit louder.

The Doctor grinned. "She's forgiven you for mistaking her for an it."

She noticed that his hand was still on hers, but she didn't call him out on it. It was nice, actually. She let the silence purr just a moment longer before she asked, "What's her name?"

"No idea. If TARDISes name themselves, Time Lords have no way of understanding." The Doctor paused, pointing toward the radio dial. "That doesn't get used much. Why should it when the ship herself communicates through symphony rather than words? Her mechanical hum is just a harmony. The music she sings in my head – oh, I can feel the whole of creation in it!"

It sounded gorgeous. "I wish I could hear it."

"Do you want to?" he asked. "I could help you listen. I'd just need to get in your head for a moment."

"What? Like stand there and push the music into my head?" She huffed at him, but the thought of him holding her temples didn't sound too bad.

"Well, I suppose I could do that instead, but I could help you listen on your own if you wanted. Humans are slightly telepathic too. Your abilities are dormant, but they're there. I could wake them up if you're interested and put them back to sleep if you get tired of them." He shrugged. "Up to you."

Donna nodded. "Okay, you can wake them up."

He placed his hands and closed his eyes. This time, Donna was expecting the warmth on her temples. She leaned into it. She was expecting the presence in her mind too, but now it felt more like a good friend in the room rather than a new acquaintance.

The Doctor was out as quick as he'd entered, leaving Donna with a tapestry of notes that she recognized from Disney's  _Hercules_. "It's beautiful!" She turned her head turned her head toward the touch pad on the console. "That's you?"

"I Can Go the Distance" became something more like "Ode to Joy."

"I think she likes you." The Doctor opened his mouth as though to say more, but he was cut off by a gong deep inside the TARDIS. He strolled toward the doors, beckoning Donna to follow. "Here we are."

He opened the doors to a cold, drizzling evening. In front of them was a two-story, cookie-cutter house that was so familiar to Donna. "Oi, genius, this isn't Florida. This is Chiswick."

"Is it?" The Doctor looked over his shoulder. "Why'd you bring us here?"

The TARDIS's symphony quieted to a gentle hum.

The Doctor shook his head. "I guess we'll find out. Sorry, Donna. I know you wanted to go someplace warm. Still, you're from Chiswick, aren't you? Could be nice for you to see some familiar faces."

"You've only met my mother at the reception," she grumbled. "Can't we try for Florida again?"

The TARDIS tooted two tones only a half-step apart.

Donna covered her ears, but it did nothing against telepathy. "Oi!"

"Sorry, Donna, but the TARDIS never steers off-course unless it's important. Well, almost never. Well…." He shook his head. "The point is, if she's brought us here on purpose, she's not going to let us leave until we've taken care of things."

Why did Time Lords install sentient plants as part of their ships anyway? It made them a bit too temperamental, in Donna's opinion.

"Not all of them," the Doctor said. "Mine has always been a bit of a free spirit. That's probably why I'm so attached to her. We've formed a bond."

Donna stared at him. When had she actually asked about his people's temperamental ships anyway?

"You're broadcasting," he informed her. "I turned your telepathy on, remember? Unintentional broadcasting can happen when a telepath isn't adequately trained or is in deep enough distress-"

Donna slapped him. Oh, that alien boy had better hurry up and fix this. "Turn it off!"

He did. He very quickly touched Donna's temples and reached into her mind.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

Both Donna and the Doctor jumped. Sylvia Noble was storming out her front door, heedless of the rain.

Donna groaned. "Hello, Mum."


	8. Chapter 8 - In Which the Subject Matter Warrants the Rating

Donna's mother paid her greeting no notice. "All inside my daughter's head like that. Are you using mind-control on her? Oh, I should have known! She was acting strangely all before the wedding. I knew it was a stupid idea, even for her, but she didn't marry you of her own free will, did she? She-"

"Sylvia-"

"- must have had to be hypnotized over several tries because she's so stubborn, but still!"

Now Wilf was stumbling out the door, he too fruitlessly trying to get his daughter's attention.

"You'll leave her and scram because that marriage isn't valid here if you forced her!"

"Mum!" Donna shrieked. "Do you really think that I would let this skinny prawn put me under mind control?"

Her mother huffed. "Not even you are so desperate as to marry an alien. The kids are going to be half-alien too!"

Donna heard the Doctor trying to protest something or other, but not even he had the guts to talk over her mother. She had never met a single man that did, human or otherwise. As usual, it was up to her to combat her mother's bullheadedness. "I explained my reasons! Can't you just trust that I can make my own decisions for once?"

"They're not your own decisions if you're under mind control! We've had enough Time Lords using that trick on humans in London as it is. You are staying here and he is leaving the planet for good." She grabbed Donna's wrist, but Donna twisted away.

The Doctor finally made himself heard over her mother's accusations. "She isn't under mind control! I wouldn't have allowed the marriage if she were."

"Oh, like a Time Lord is so innocent! I saw on the news how upset Donna was during your ceremony, and those days Mars went missing – it was  _your_  people who did it, wasn't it? And here, here on Earth, you've caused nothing but trouble with your freaky mind powers."

"Mum! He's done nothing to make you hate him. He didn't keep me away forever, did he? See? Here we are!"

"Sylvia," Wilf placed a hand on his daughter's arm. "He seemed nice enough at the reception, didn't he? Besides, he did bring our Donna back. Maybe he isn't like that lot."

She pulled her arm away. "Not you too, Dad!"

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Is it true, about the Time Lords?"

A shiver ran up Donna's spine and she broke out in goosebumps. Pulling her arms to herself, she asked, "That's possible then? Time Lords using mind control?"

"Hypnosis, yes, but not usually full mind control." The Doctor shoved his hands inside his pockets and stared at the TARDIS's threshold. "Only those of us who are are the most gifted at it. This must have been what the TARDIS wanted us here for. I don't intend to leave until I've put a stop to it."

Quietly, Donna asked, "Have you ever hypnotized anyone?"

The Doctor stepped out into the drizzle. The rain pressed a few strands of his wild hair to his head. "Can you tell me more about these Time Lords?"

Donna's mother let out a little huff. "I don't know about you lot, but I am not standing out in the rain any longer. Since you insist on befriending the alien, I'll leave you to it. Make him do something about his ship. The last thing we need is for anyone to spot such an obvious TARDIS on our lawn."

As she stomped toward the house, Wilf called, "Put the kettle on, will you?" He apologized to the Doctor for Sylvia's behavior and invited them in for tea.

The Doctor stared after her. "She has a point about the TARDIS. It will make my investigation easier if humans don't know I'm a Time Lord." He doubled back inside the console room, brushing past Donna. "I'm just going to make her invisible. Won't be a tick."

The Doctor pulled a lever. Nothing happened from what Donna could tell, but he nodded as he came back. "That's that then. I believe I have some criminals to catch."

Donna, Wilf, and the Doctor went inside and sat in the front room. Donna refused to sit by the Doctor, opting for her own brown armchair instead of the sofa. His brown eyes locked on her like a begging puppy, but she refused to let herself be swayed while he couldn't give her an answer about whether he'd hypnotized people.

Wilf sat next to him in her place. "It's almost time for the evening news. If anything else has happened with your people, they'll be more current than I am."

There was indeed something on the news. A picture of a young man with curly hair and gold earrings came on.  _Forced Suicide?_

The Doctor mumbled something, but Donna was too far away to make out his words. "What was that, Sunshine?"

He held a finger to his lips and nodded to the TV.

There was an interview on with a graying, curly-haired man who looked like he could be the victim's father. "Paul was fascinated with the Time Lords. He kept going off to see them. I told him they were dangerous, but I couldn't break his spell before the (the next word was bleeped over public television) killed him. They hypnotized him and made him slit his own wrists."

Her mother had entered the room while the grieving man was cursing the Time Lords. "See? I told you his people weren't any good." She set down a tray of tea service.

For once, Donna was inclined to agree with her mother.

The Doctor stiffened. "You're blaming my entire species for this? Just look at the text running across the bottom of the screen: investigation is still on-going. What they're broadcasting isn't facts on a murder. It's a piece on the public perception of my race."

The segment ended with a bit of advice to prevent alien mind-control: don't look a Time Lord in the eye, and try to focus on anything but their voice. It changed to news of some mass shooting in France.

Donna's eyes sought out the Doctor, but she caught herself and looked away. "You don't even need to touch to hypnotize, do you?"

"No." The Doctor got to his feet and went to lean on Donna's chair. "If it makes you feel better, it's not exactly something easy to do. Well, not for most Time Lords. Well, not for me. Well, when we're talking about on a mass scale. I've only ever known one Time Lord who mastered mass hypnosis, and you do not want to meet him. If he even survived the war that is."

Donna slapped the Doctor. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"That may not have come out in the most comforting way." Wincing, he sought out her eyes, but she looked away. He sighed. "The point is, it wouldn't be easy for us to take control of your planet with mass hypnosis, and whatever hypnosis is happening, I'm going to put a stop to."

Donna crossed her arms. "You've hypnotized people before, haven't you?"

He gulped. "Yes."

"Me?"

"No, not you." The Doctor reached for her hand. "Donna-"

Donna stood abruptly. "Shut it! You have hypnotized me. You hypnotized me into trusting you at least. You made me think you were crying out in the desert."

"I wasn't-"

"Oh, I've been such a dumbo! You knew I'd help Vellicessa look for you. It was a chance for you to get me alone so the Council wouldn't know you'd hypnotized me."

His eyes drilled into her cheek because she wouldn't meet them. He only let the silence last a second. "Do you really trust the High Council over me?"

"I don't trust any of you!"

"Fine," he said quietly. He turned and walked toward the door.

With the Doctor's past, Donna knew she couldn't let him run around Earth unsupervised. Deserting her chair, she ran and grabbed his wrist. "Oi, Spaceman! Where do you think you're going?"

Her mother stopped stirring sugar into a cup of tea. "Don't go with him, Little Miss!"

"I've got to, Mum! Someone's got to stop him from hypnotizing anyone else."

The Doctor extracted his wrist. "I haven't hypnotized you." Although he wouldn't let Donna take hold of him again, he did turn and look back at her. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this, and you, Donna Lungbarrow, are staying here where it's safe if you're so worried about Time Lords. Humans! So violent and needlessly suspicious!"

"You just try to tell me to stay here, you martian!" Donna trailed him to the TARDIS, shouting all the way.

He turned invisible as he stepped into his ship, and she crashed into a closed door. She landed on her butt on the wet, slightly muddy walkway. "Oi, let me in!"

The TARDIS vworped away.

Donna picked herself up and stomped inside. "He left without me!"

"Well," Her mother picked up her tea, "that would make the first of his actions I approve of."

Donna ignored her mother, marching straight to her grandfather instead. "I've got to find him. Where are the other Time Lords?"

Sylvia pointed her finger at Wilf. "Don't you tell her."

Wilf pretended like he couldn't hear his daughter. "They load and unload by the Thames." He whispered an address into Donna's ear.

"Dad!" Sylvia snapped.

Donna kept her distance from her mother as she went to retrieve keys from the kitchen. "Mum, I'm taking the car."

Sylvia complained and protested, following Donna to the curb, but Donna wouldn't hear it. "For goodness' sake, Mum! I hoped I could help the human race with aliens by marrying the Doctor. Now, I'm off to help the human race with aliens."

She climbed into the car and drove off through the wet streets, wishing she had an umbrella for when she arrived. She turned the heat on for the drive, keeping an eye out for pinstripes or a broken blue spaceship.

Half an hour later, Donna spotted a new patch of concrete and a sign:

Designated TARDIS Materialization Area. Keep Out.

She pulled to the side of the road and parked.

_Help me!_

It was a woman's whisper, but it was only in her mind. It had to be a Time Lady.

Donna looked around. She saw no one in the shining, lamp-lit streets. "Hello?" she called. "Someone there?"

_Please find me. I'm on the shore._

Donna grabbed her phone as a makeshift flashlight and ran for the river. "Can you hear me?"

"Over here." The voice was very weak.

Donna saw who'd spoken, but she couldn't tell it was a person at first. It might well have been an odd-shaped log, half-lodged in the shore, but when she really looked, it was a dark-skinned woman in civilian robes, face-down, soaked, feet dangling in the water.

She ran. Kneeling down, she could make out rips, burns and dark, dried patches. Her hands covered her mouth. "Who did this?"

The Time Lady dug her fingers into the wet sand.  _I can't afford to regenerate._

She looked young. It didn't mean much with the Time Lords' shape-shifting, but she looked maybe twenty-one.

She was trembling. Something was poking out of her chest, hidden under her robe. It made Donna's heart ache just to see the damage.

Donna swallowed the lump in her throat. "Is there any way to get your people's medics here now?"

_No. No. No! Please, just this once. Give me a miracle. If I regenerate, the Stowaway will find out, and he will never forgive me. No one will._

Donna placed her hand on one of the alien's.

The Time Lady pulled her hand away as though from a hot stove.  _Don't touch me!_

"I'm sorry. I'm just trying to help."

Trembling, the Time Lady inched her hand back to Donna's. She let the alien squeeze her fingers.  _I can't. I can't regenerate now._

Donna gently squeezed back. "I don't think you have a choice. I'm sure your friend will forgive you."

The Time Lady yanked away again, shrinking into herself.  _How did she know?_

Donna's eyes watered. The Doctor had told her the truth about this part of Time Lords' mental powers at least, and now Donna had some poor Time Lady in too much distress to control her telepathy. How was she supposed to help? "I'm sorry," she told her. "You're broadcasting."

The Time Lady's hand dug into the sand again.  _No! I can't broadcast now. She'll find out_ _how filthy I am_ _. She'll tell the others._

Donna placed her hand within easy reach of the Time Lady's. "How do I help you?"

The alien's head sunk into the rocky dirt.  _I'm scared._

"You don't have to do this alone. I'll stay here with you. I'm Donna. And you are?"

_Filthy._

Worry gnawed at Donna's stomach. There was that word again. Just what had happened to this poor woman?

The Time Lady slid her hand away from Donna's. It started glowing yellow, lighting her dark bruises and orange blood. "Get back!"

Donna backed up, staring as golden flames blanketed the alien's body. Coiled black hair straightened, changing to blond. Skin lightened until it almost matched Donna's own color. Bones shrank, leaving the Time Lady in clothes at least three sizes too big. Less than a minute and it was over.

Donna crept forward. "Is the regeneration finished? Do you still need any medical attention?"

"I'm fine," the alien said in a delicate, wavering voice. She pulled herself out of the water, curled up in the too-big robe and started bawling.

_I'm filthy. I'm so filthy. And I'm fertile. What if something comes of this?_

Oh no. It was that Crime with a capital C.

Donna knelt beside her, silently asking permission to give her a hug. The alien's warm teardrops fell onto her shoulders as the rain pattered all around them. As the shower got heavier, she pulled the Time Lady to her feet. "Come on. Let's get you out of the weather."

The Time Lady didn't protest as Donna led her to the car. She started the engine and adjusted the heat. She was sure she'd hear it from her mother for bringing a muddy, dripping-wet alien into the car later, but this was much more important. It wasn't like Donna hadn't tracked mud in earlier either. "What's your name?" she asked again.

"The Entrepreneur."

The Time Lady fell silent again as Donna turned on the headlights. "I wish we could have met under happier circumstances."

_Are Time Lords and humans cross-fertile?_  The Entrepreneur raked as though she were trying to vomit.

Donna glared at the reflected lights out the windshield. "Someone touched you without your permission, didn't they? Intimately, I mean."

_Oh, Rassilon! She knows. She knows. She's been hearing me this whole time._  She sobbed noisily into her hands.

A bit of bile rose in Donna's throat as she pressed the gas pedal a little harder. "It's not a reflection on you, you know. It was that man who did it."

_Stop trying to make me feel better, you stupid ape! We both know how disgusting I am._

"Oi!" Donna strangled the steering wheel. "None of that. It was done  _to_  you, and there's nothing you could possibly have done to be responsible for it. It was all him. It could have been anyone. We girls have got to stick together, don't we? I'm taking you to the police and we'll make sure that  _sleazeball_  can't hurt you or anyone else ever again."

The Entrepreneur swallowed loudly. "Hypnosis."

"What about hypnosis?"

She lowered her hands from her face and wrapped them around herself instead. "It was a group of men. They said I'd used my looks to hypnotize their friend. Made him go to Gallifrey as cheap labor."

Oh, those creeps were lucky it would be the police after them and not Donna. If it were Donna, they wouldn't know what hit them. That was, if Donna could have actually done anything. "That's ridiculous! It's not your looks that are hypnotic, is it? I've hung around plenty of Time Lords, and I've never done or believed anything for their  _looks."_

She hadn't, had she? If anyone had hypnotized her, it was the Doctor with his tears out in the desert. She glanced at the Entrepreneur, who'd taken to staring across the dashboard, tears streaming down her face.

No, tears couldn't hypnotize her to believe an untruth either. If the Entrepreneur had been distressed enough to broadcast, Donna doubted she had the ability to intentionally hypnotize anyone while she was still in pain.

The Doctor hadn't hypnotized her at all. She'd accused him for nothing.

Donna blinkered for the police station and parked the car. "They'll want to talk to you about what happened. Is that okay?" She got her first good look at the Entrepreneur and didn't like what she saw – hair split-ended, blue eyes looking anywhere but at her, and a lopsided, uneven face. Why would a Time Lady choose to regenerate into looking like that? Donna could only assume the appearance was a symptom of psychological trauma. The poor woman.

The Entrepreneur bit her lip. She nodded slowly.

Donna smiled at her. "You don't have to tell them anything you don't want to. You've stopped broadcasting too."

"It's fine." She fiddled with the edges of her overlong sleeves. "Will you stay with me?"

"I won't leave the station until you're taken care of. I don't know if they'll let me stay with you the whole time, but if we do get separated, I'll call a friend of mine to see if we can get you some clean clothes to wear until you can get some new ones of your own. Come on."

They talked to the police until late in the night. Donna procured the Entrepreneur a pair of jeans, a white tank-top, and a battered gray zipper hoodie and waited with her until her friend – her lover, as it turned out – could pick her up.

Donna bumped into a brunette on her way out of the station and quickly apologized. She checked her watch. 11PM. She searched a little longer, but she didn't find the Doctor that night.


	9. Chapter 9 - In Which Time Lords Run

The next morning, she searched the news sites for any hint of the Doctor over a cranberry muffin and some eggs, all the while hiding away from her mother. She knew how her mother would take her searching for her husband. Lucky, or perhaps unluckily, she found the Doctor the moment she looked at the headlines.

_Doctor Doctors Mind Control Fiasco_

She groaned. "What did that numpty get himself into this time?"

She thumbed the link and mined the article for predictions of his whereabouts:  _six merchants released from alien control….upcoming candidate Harriet Jones says she tipped Lord President Doctor off about the Master…._

If all else failed, she could try asking any of those seven. The freed merchants had the Doctor's name written all over them.

… _wanted on Gallifrey for divers crimes. Lord President Doctor meets with Prime Minister Saxon to negotiate his repatriation in the morning._

There! That was what she wanted to know. With just a shout to her mum that she was leaving, Donna took the tube to Downing Street to look for a TARDIS.

The Doctor's TARDIS was standing around beside the building when she arrived. Grinning, she trotted up to it, and, hearing voices, peeked around the corner. She spotted Demeter wearing her advisory-red robes and talking to an old man in handcuffs. Donna quickly pressed her back to the TARDIS.

"Why would you turn this deal down?" Demeter asked. "I'm offering to get you off the hook for your little stunt. You know what the High Council would do to you."

"No, I don't." The old man sounded like he was smirking, that smug voice. "Enlighten me, since when does the High Council care about a backwater like Earth?"

"They don't, but you know who does."

The man laughed. "If it hurts the Doctor, I don't care what the High Council does to me."

"Even if Earth was supposed to distract the Doctor while they set a trap for him?"

Donna's heart pounded. A trap? What did the Time Lords have in mind for her husband now? She leaned into the shadows.

"A trap? What sort of trap? No, wait on that answer: that little pet the High Council got him has been listening in for the last minute and a half. Didn't you notice? She serves to distract him too, doesn't she? How will you salvage whatever you had in mind now?"

Did he see her in that moment she peeked around the TARDIS?

No time to think. Donna sprinted around toward the columned entrance of the Downing Street government building. She was up the marble stairs and through the carved doors when BAM! She ran – literally – into the Doctor.

Bang!

A bullet embedded itself in the floor just left of the Doctor's right hand. "Hold your fire! My wife's here – one of  _your_  citizens!"

Bang!

A second bullet buried itself in the well-shined floor.

The Doctor leaped to his feet. He grabbed Donna's hand and pulled her toward the door. "To the TARDIS!"

They had to take their chances anyway, but he had to know. "Doctor! Demeter was offering the Master a deal out there."

The Doctor had them leap off the stairs. "We'll deal with them later."

They sprinted around the side of the building and ran made for the Doctor's ship. Demeter and the Master had disappeared.

The Doctor snapped and the TARDIS door opened. He steered them inside, slammed the door, and ran to the console.

"What's going on anyway?"

The Doctor replied by popping a miniature microphone out of a panel and speaking into it. "Calling all Time Lords. This is the Doctor speaking. Harold Saxon blames us for the Master's crimes against humans. We lost all agreements with Earth. Those on Earth withdraw immediately for your safety."

He followed his own advice, pulling some levers and starting the dematerialization sequence. When the vworping stopped, he relaxed, facing Donna and leaning on the consoles with a pout on his lips. "We're safe. No one can shoot at us here."

Donna joined him behind the console. "I've never been a fan of Harold Saxon, but it still shocks me that he did that! He always went going on about proving aliens exist, and now he ends interplanetary relations with gunfire just because of one criminal you helped catch."

"Oh, the Master's been hiding out here for a while. He was already here when Gallifrey first made official contact with Earth. He started controlling Harold Saxon before he became prime minister, so no one ever knew his true leadership until now." The Doctor cleared his throat. "Anyway, we could annul our marriage easily enough now, if you want. A nice normal life on Earth. No aliens."

Donna leaned toward the Doctor. "Why would I want to annul our marriage?"

He stared at her. He blinked. Hard. "What?"

"I asked why I'd want to annul our marriage, you prawn. Don't tell me you regret it." Donna silently challenged the Doctor to look away.

He did, immediately. "No, but you do. I hypnotized you to believe my side of the story. Isn't that right?"

Oh, he was determined to feed her guilt, wasn't he? She'd accuse him of it if she thought he actually had a clue what he was doing to her. She took a breath. "No, you're not. I'm sorry. I was wrong to doubt your character the moment I found out about your powers."

The Doctor tilted his face upwards like he was waiting for her to go on.

Donna folded her arms across her chest and stared down at the coral-set console. "It's no excuse, but humans, we get scared when we face something new, and then we do something stupid. Meanwhile, you, you go off to stop the problem,  _alone,_  and you get attacked for your trouble. I wish I helped you instead of accuse you."

"Are you sure you're not hypnotized? I think the Children of the Waters might do that to you." The Doctor peered into her eyes and held a hand toward her face. "May I?"

She met his hand and placed it to her temple. "Go ahead. I trust you. And if you want to look at my recent memories, there are some things from this trip I think you should know about."

He smiled. "Right. If you could place them at the front for me?"

"Just like Demeter's white robe?"

His grin grew. "Just like Demeter's white robe." He positioned his other hand, closed his eyes, and entered Donna's mind. His friendly presence poked around as she thought about Demeter's conversation with the Master and the poor Entrepreneur. The closest physical sensation was that of a paramedic gently pressing fingers around a skull to check for a concussion.

In less than ten seconds, the Doctor finished his check-up. In less than fifteen, he was out of her head, brushing his lips against her cheek. They touched her like a butterfly, not that she was complaining.

The kiss lasted as long as a heartbeat. Too soon, the Doctor pulled away.

Donna trapped his hand in hers. "What brought that on?"

"Is that not allowed?" He tried to take his hand back.

Donna let him have it, but only with her fingers entwined in his. "I would like more of that, if that's what you're asking. I just want to know why."

Grinning, the Doctor leaned in and planted another kiss on her cheek. A firmer peck this time. "Because you are so wonderfully human. You were scared, but look what you did: you helped the Entrepreneur and tracked me down to make up with me. You didn't even think that you might get hypnotized in all that, did you? Your sympathy, the better part of your nature, helped you overcome the worse part of your nature, didn't it? Because that's what you humans do: you overcome." He repeated his last point so softly that Donna wondered if he was still talking to her: "Humans can overcome their own natures."

Even if he meant it, he was still laying it on thick. "And what about Time Lords?"

"Well…" The Doctor stroked the back of her hand. "You know what you said about humans facing something new, then getting scared and doing something stupid?"

She bristled. "Yeah?"

"Time Lords do the same. You don't want to see the things we do when we get scared. Just recently, during the Time War…." His eyes stared emptily at the domed wall.

She didn't want to imagine what was going through his head. Pain? Guilt? Definitely guilt. Some kind of trauma. "Time Lords can overcome yourselves too, can't you?"

He blinked and swallowed. "I like to believe so."

That was a little better, but not what Donna was going for. Knowing him, perhaps it was something he thought he could prevent rather than something he actually did that was haunting him. "Oi! As I told you before, Spaceman: your failures don't make you a bad person. You're doing your best, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then the question is," she brushed his arm, leaning in and batting her lashes, "do we want this?"

"As much as we can get away with!" The Doctor gave her another peck. "So! Several more days away from Gallifrey and a ban from Earth. What do you say we go see something? Call it a belated honeymoon?"

Donna liked the sound of that.

* * *

They had some mad adventures together: the Oodsphere, the Library, Midnight. Donna enjoyed having a time machine on hand to end the vacation on a high note and meet Agatha Christie.

The Doctor brought them back to Gallifrey on time for once, albeit to the wrong city. It just looked like Gallifrey to Donna, but when the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS, he paused. "Hold on," he stared at a half-crumbled structure that reminded Donna of a black version of the Berlin water tower. "This is Olyesti. Quite a ways from the capitol."

Donna took his hand. "Come on. The TARDIS only steers us off-course when important, right? The High Council can wait."

The Doctor grinned. "Right. A tour of Olyesti it is then. The repairs should be coming along."

Olyesti lay in worse shape than the Citadel by just a bit. A larger section of homes lay toppled into the streets and the Doctor pointed out some major buildings with holes in them, but downtown was bustling. Then, on the outskirts of town, Donna saw other humans on Gallifrey for the first time, dressed in bright yellow construction outfits and working to clear the rubble. "Why are they still here? I thought Earth canceled the agreements."

"I dunno." The Doctor stepped toward one of the workers, a dark-skinned man covered in filth. "Oi! What were you lot told about going home?"

The dark-skinned man turned toward them. The familiar dark-skinned man. It Lance.

"Oh no. Not him." Donna feigned interest in a flower growing wildly out the side of a ruin. It had a split vine, as though two plants merged into one and met at the green-and-white flower head.

"Someone you know?"

Donna's eyes drilled into a skinny insectoid that was tiptoeing around the petals. "His name's Lance. He's the swine I was going to marry before he ran off here and set me up with you instead."

"The Head of Human Resources? That guy?"

She glared at the Doctor. "You've heard of him."

He nodded slowly. "The Time Lords resented him for helping the Racnoss produce Huon particles, so we made him our Head of Human Resources – meaning he's the first human resource we ask to handle the unpleasant jobs."

Lance approached the two with the smile that used to fool Donna.

The Doctor held Donna to his body. "Do anything to upset my wife and you'll regret it. I just need information, and I'll know if you answer untruthfully."

Lance shuddered. "I understand."

Donna clung to the Doctor's arm. In return, the Doctor planted a kiss in her hair. "Go wait back at the TARDIS. I'll handle this."

"I don't think so, Sunshine."

"Donna?"

She looked at the ground. "He may be the biggest weasel I've ever met, but he knows what's going on, doesn't he? I know you want to help people, Doctor. I'm staying here to find out what I can do to help you with that. Just talk to him."

Lance cleared his throat. "We weren't told anything about going home."

The Doctor blinked. "Really? And about the trade agreement?"

"Were there changes?" Lance asked quietly. He waited for either of them to answer.

Donna exchanged a glance with the Doctor. Who handled telling the workers anything?

"Yeah," the Doctor said, "you could say that. What do they have you doing all day?"

Lance shrugged. "Same as always: moving the rubble into that building there. Without a paycheck in sight, I might add."

The Doctor followed Lance's finger. "But that's the Loomhouse. That's the main Loomhouse for this part of the planet. We supposedly approached Earth for help in the first place to get those rebuilt."

Donna crossed her arms. "Using humans as a distractions, ignoring the workers, neglecting the means to have towns full of little ones again. I wish I could give the High Council a piece of my mind."

"That's not the best idea right now, Donna: they might do something about us. They might send you home without your memories. They used to do that to humans who saw Gallifrey, and..." The Doctor's voice softened. "I don't want to lose you."

"You can wipe memories too?" Donna shivered.

"I can, but I don't."

She pulled her spaceman to her. "You, as in Time Lords. I trust  _you_ ,  _Doctor_. I just wish all these surprises about your species would stop – especially the stuff the High Council members could do. Them I don't trust at all."

She relaxed against his chest, letting his heartsbeats fill her ears. He stroked her hair, tucking stray strands behind her ear. Bliss. The moment passed, but the feeling lingered.

Taking Donna's hand, the Doctor gazed at Lance. "I think you'd better show us what's going on in the Loomhouse."

They walked into the Loomhouse in silence. Its single, wide floor was packed tile-to-vaulted ceiling with cubes of compressed debris in the back. Patches of sky could be seen overhead and the whole place smelled like rotten fish. Donna spotted a few cylindrical machines covered in dust, whatever of them remained intact.

Yeah, those weren't being used any time soon. There never had been an honest trade with Earth, nor would there be children to cheer up devastated Gallifreyans.

Beside Donna, the Doctor was taking everything in too. "Haven't any of the locals said anything to you? Asked what you were doing?"

Lance shook his head. "They've been downtown, watching debates and composing elegies, I think. We hardly ever see any Time Lords but the supervisors."

The Doctor clenched his fists, glaring at the floor. "Bread and circuses. But why? What is the High Council up to?"

Donna gazed around the Loomhouse as though she could spot someone to ask for answers. Who she found were only the ghosts in her imagination of happy parents and the toddlers that might have been. Her eyes stopped on a silver door to what would have been a closet if she didn't know of Time Lords' dimensionally-transcendential technology. Alien world or not, the Loomhouse had to have an office to organize maintenance and logistics. The entrance to it did look cleaner than the rest of the Loomhouse. "Do your supervisors work in there?"

Lance snorted. "She does have a brain."

The Doctor stared him down. "What did I tell you about Donna?"

"I'm sorry," he blurted, going pale. He backed away. "If you want to talk to my supervisors, I could announce you."

"That won't be necessary. Come on, Donna." The Doctor wove his fingers in hers and led the way toward the office.

Donna leaned closer to his ear. "What's happened to him to make him so scared of you?"

"I dunno. I hope we haven't been mistreating our workers. Someone in here should be able to clear things up." He stepped through the office's pocket door.

The office consisted of a wide front counter and a few desks in the back. Everything was a light orange, and what Donna suspected was a logo or motto was embalmed in white in the counter's marble. On one wall was a painting of the first Loom, like Donna had seen at the museum, and the air smelled faintly of flowers. A single elder-bodied Time Lord in periwinkle robes hung around the desks at the back. It was really too bad this place couldn't welcome any starry-eyed wannabe-parents now.

Grinning, Donna looked at the Doctor. "You think we might come back here someday when the Looms are up and running?"

He turned slightly green. "No. Absolutely not."

Donna's jaw dropped. "I didn't say soon, you nancy! We'll take our time, but you never want to have kids? Are humans so disgusting?"

"No, of course you're not disgusting," he said, a little too quickly for Donna's liking. "Look, can we talk about this later? We have work to do if we want there to be Looms at all."

Huffing, Donna crossed her arms. "I'll hold you to that, Sunshine."

The Doctor moved his newly-unheld hand slowly back toward himself. "Right." He faced the counter and cleared his throat. "Excuse me!"

The periwinkle Time Lord turned around, blinking his light green eyes, two bushy white eyebrows raised into a bed of wrinkles. "Lord President! I was not expecting a visit."

"No, no you weren't." The Doctor stepped toward the counter with an easy grin. "Donna has friends looking forward to seeing their town filled with little ones, so I thought we'd pop by personally to check on your progress. What's your name, by the way?"

"Gawain." He gave a toothless smile. "I'm glad someone's come to check. Truth is, we never received the last shipment of metals we need to modify the Looms. I asked the Citadel, but they said there's been a delay and they'd get back to me. That was six days ago."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Are the Looms going to function again? It looks to me like the Loomhouse's being used as a landfill."

Gawain nodded, ambling back toward his desk. "I don't understand the mechanics of it myself, but someone's come up with a way to use rubble as materials for Time Tots until we can man the protein farms again." He came back with a small yellow disc and turned its lid open. A 3D display of Loom blueprints were inside.

The Doctor took a pair of dark-rimmed square glasses from his pocket and perched them on his nose. He peered at the plans. "Oh, so they did. This is brilliant! But why keep the public away? Wait, hold on." He pointed a finger at a small blue wire at the back of an open panel. "What's that bit for?"

"No idea."

Donna watched the Doctor as he adjusted the image to show the electrical schematics. Without knowledge of the workings of alien technology, she was left with time to think of why the Doctor was so disgusted by the idea of Looming a child with her. His answer of whether he thought humans were disgusting was suspicious, but she could have sworn he had the hots for her. It may not be humans, or at least not all humans, but that was close.

If it wasn't humans that grossed him out, was it kids? No, he'd been too angry about the murder of a little boy for that to be the case.

Come to think of it, the tailor in the Citadel hadn't exactly been pleased to smell her although she bathed regularly. Maybe it was humans in general. She crossed her arms. The Doctor should have just owned up to it. "You're just a gitty prawn who doesn't think I can handle the truth. That's what you are."

The Doctor glanced at her, but that was about it. He was too engrossed in the schematics. Before he could make any visible progress on his geeky problem, a holographic text popped up over the counter. He looked up and read it. "What?"


	10. Chapter 10 - In Which Donna Sees No Alien Insides

Gawain slapped his palms to the marble. “They can’t do this!”

The Doctor swallowed. “I knew they’d have to do something after Earth broke off relations, but I didn’t think they’d do this. We _need_ to repopulate!”

Gawain stared at him. “Earth broke off relations?”

“Yeah. A week ago. The only thing you heard is that there’s been delays?”

Whatever they were talking about, Donna couldn’t read the news for herself, and she was sick of feeling out of the loop. “Oi!” She pointed to the floating circles. “Is it from the High Council? What did those buzzards say anyway?”

The Doctor stuck his hands in his pocket. “Yeah. Well, they finally admitted that repairs for the Looms are suspended, but beyond that, well, there’s one Loom functioning in the Citadel, and they’ve just restricted it to the High Council only.”

Donna’s whole body shook. “You mean there’s a Loom working, and no one is allowed to have kids?”

“Well, the High Council can have kids, but yeah.” Placing a hand on Donna’s elbow, the Doctor looked at Gawain. “I’ll clear this up, but there is one more matter I need to investigate.”

“Yes?”

“The humans.” The Doctor slid his arm around Donna. “We’ve heard complaints that they haven’t been paid, and we noticed the Head of Human Resources is scared of Time Lords.”

Gawain frowned. “They have privileges for all the necessities, and they should be getting compensated on their home planet. Do they not understand that?”

“Apparently not.”

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. “Right. You explain it to them. What about….” he glanced at Donna, “what’s-his-name? Lance?”

She nodded.

“He’s been scared since we collected him from the High Council,” Gawain said. “All the others seem normal.”

“Maybe the Council did something when they were investigating his involvement with the Racnoss.” The Doctor further messied his hair with his hand. He took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“Good luck, Doctor.”

“If I have any of that, we’ll have Looms available again.” He offered Donna a weak smile. “Come on.”

The moment they left the office, Donna was on him about his nasty reaction to Looming kids with her one day. “What? Are humans alright to look at, but not good enough to be the mother of your children? Don’t lie to me, Spaceman. I’m not a pea brain.”

The Doctor looked her up and down. “Nice to know _you’re_ not put off by the thought of half-alien children.”

Oh, no. No sidestepping the question. Donna put her hands on her hips. “And you are. Is that it? Half-human children are nauseating?”

“A bit, yeah. Well, maybe a little more than a bit. I just don’t even want to think about that.” He looked away as though regretting his attitude would get him off the hook.

Donna punched him in the arm. “How could they be nauseating? They’re _your_ children. Is their mother nauseating?”

The Doctor suddenly stopped outside the Loomhouse doors. “Donna, do you think I don’t want to be a father again?”

The pain in his voice made her stop as well, but it didn’t make sense. “That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? That you don’t want to have a family with your wife.”

“That’s not what I said at all! We can adopt. There are more kids who need adoption now on Gallifrey than ever before. I wouldn’t mind adopting again.”

Donna’s eyes were prickling. She raised her volume to cover her tears. “You don’t want. To have. A family. With me? Just tell me the truth!”

The Doctor turned his back on her. “Humans! You always jump to the worst possible conclusions, and you’re so stubborn when you’re convinced you know something!”

“Time Lords! You never explain anything properly, and you’re one to talk about stubbornness!” She followed him back to the TARDIS, stomping the whole way. “I just want you to answer me properly: why would half-human children be so disgusting?”

He slammed the door open when they reached the TARDIS. “Donna, we don’t have time for this!” He yanked her inside and slammed the door shut behind her.

She put her hands on her hips. “Oh, now he has time to deal with other Time Lords. Now that he has a family to run away from.”

He leaned around the time rotor to point a finger at her. “It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Isn’t it? No, you can’t even stand the thought of having kids with me. ‘No. Absolutely not,’ you said.”

“Rassilon’s eyes, Donna! I am not the only one who thinks this way. You know what the High Council does to hybrid children? Of course you do – I told you!” He threw up the lever that dematerialized the TARDIS.

Donna took a breath and counted to ten. “What does the High Council do to them? I don’t understand.”

“I did tell you, didn’t I?” The Doctor stepped around to face her. “Most Time Lords wouldn’t risk going for someone of another species. And you know why? Because of just what the High Council did to that half-Abzorbalovian boy – they murdered him and his parents.”

Tears rained from Donna’s eyes. “They do that to all hybrid children? I thought the Abzorb-a-what’s-its might have been your enemies, or it was because he was womb-born or something.”

“Yes, it’s all hybrid children.” The Doctor gazed at her with big sad eyes. “In most cases, that’s the most disgusting part of mixed children: what’s done to them.”

She buried her head in his shoulder. “You’re not actually disgusted by the children themselves, are you?”

He pulled her to him. “We can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“And you can’t do anything.”

“I try, but it’s too embedded in our culture.” The Doctor leaned into her hair. “There’s a Matrix prophesy about a hybrid, and well, when Time Lords don’t understand something, we’re scared, and when we’re scared, we do something stupid.”

They held each other for a while, letting the TARDIS hum and pulse in the background. The Doctor stroked Donna’s hair. She rubbed circles on his back. She cuddled herself closer to his ear. “This prophesy about a hybrid, could it be linked to the prophesy about us?”

“The hybrid of prophesy is destined to destroy Gallifrey and stand in its ruins.” Taking a breath, the Doctor pulled back and gazed into Donna’s eyes. “There’s a good chance the hybrid is half-Time Lord, half-human.” He paused, breath shuddering. “Perhaps the High Council was hoping we’d mess up and have a kid together as an excuse to get me out of their way permanently. Our marriage seems too big a risk to be just a distraction. They appointed me Lord President because the public demanded a war hero, but they don’t really want me around. You know I want to be close to my _wife,_ but-”

Donna squeezed him a bit closer. “What are they going to do to us?”

“Nothing. I won’t let them.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I’m going to talk to them. You’ll stay here, won’t you? I have something I need you to do if anything goes wrong.”

This was an excuse to leave her behind, wasn’t it? “Doctor.” Donna released her embrace, crossing her arms and giving him a look.

“So sorry, but I’ll need you here if anything happens. I don’t think you could face the Time Lords to get me out of real trouble, so I’d need you to contact Demeter. She has a vested interest in keeping me alive and free. She’d get me out.”

The Doctor was looking at her so intently that Donna felt too bad to say no. “Fine, but you’ll need to show me how to do that.”

Nodding, he pulled out six white squares of a substance Donna couldn’t identify. He sat down and laid them out in a cross. “I’m preparing the message now.”

He closed his eyes and put his hands to his temple. Quickly, the white squares moved themselves to make a cube. The Doctor stood up and pressed it into Donna’s hand. “I’ll set up the TARDIS screens to monitor me. If I get myself captured or killed, just chuck this out the door.”

The cube felt soft and warm in her hands, and it seemed to whisper with the Doctor’s voice. “Your suspicions about me are right. I don’t think the High Council knows, but if you’re getting this, they’ve done something to me. I need you to save me, even if it means retrieving me from the Matrix.”

“Oi! What do you mean her suspicions about you are right?” Donna joined her husband at the console, where he was adjusting the position of a television-like screen.

“Well, how else am I supposed to convince her to help?” He turned the screen on, showing the two of them standing in front of it.

Donna scowled. She looked a mess with her rumpled hair and her red eyes. There was a displeased glint in her gaze from her frustration at not knowing whether the Doctor was just saying things to Demeter or not. There was still something he wasn’t telling her about their role in the prophesy, wasn’t there? Did he believe they were the Hybrid’s parents or something?

He leaned over, stroked her cheek, and kissed it. “I’ll be back.”

He started for the door, but Donna grabbed his wrist. “Wait.” When he turned, she reached into his silky hair and pulled his head toward her. She pressed her lips to his, running her tongue over his cool skin. He tasted like magic. “You’d better be.”

The resulting grin split his face. “Oh, Donna Lungbarrow, I’ll always be back for you.” He hopped to the door and gave her a wave. “You can count on it!”

She waved back. “Be careful!”

There was nothing for it now but to watch that silly martian and pray for his safety as he skipped through the streets to the capitol building. She’d worry about what he was hiding later. For now, she just wanted him to be okay.

She watched as the Doctor pressed his ear to the Grand Meeting Room, then, unconcerned, threw the doors open. “’Ello. Miss me?”

He stood at the bottom of an amphitheater, only Rassilon and three other Time Lords seated on the floor, leaving an empty seat there that likely belonged to the blonde standing in front of the crowd.

Seated to Rassilon’s right was Syrlian, who was rising to his feet. “You can’t just barge in here like that!”

Rassilon halted Syrlian with his hand. “Let’s hear what Lord President Doctor has to say for himself.”

“You’ve cut off all public access to the working Loom.” The Doctor stared Rassilon down, but Rassilon appeared unfazed.

In fact, Rassilon relaxed into his seat, resting an elbow on its side. “We don’t want to overwhelm the staff with panicked requests to use it. We’ll be able to make Looms publicly available again once we can get the workforce to mine and process the materials we need. The situation is really your fault for bungling things with Earth.”

“That wasn’t my fault! The Master’s the one who broke their trust.”

Rassilon silenced the Doctor with his hand. “We dealt with the Master already. The situation would not have gone south over one criminal had you gone to President Erickson in the United States like we told you to instead of approaching unstable Saxon in the United Kingdom a few years prior.”

“I like the UK better: it has less guns.” The Doctor crossed his arms. “There are still British citizens you haven’t returned.”

Rassilon spread his hands. “You can hardly expect us to repatriate them with the British military order to shoot on sight. Besides the danger to our own people, we would be delivering the laborers to their deaths.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes.

“If you don’t like the situation, you go to Earth, you set up trade with America, and you negotiate a ceasefire with Saxon to return his citizens.” Rassilon smirked.

“Fine.” The Doctor pointed a finger at Rassilon. “But I know there’s something you’re plotting with the Looms. I’m going to find out what it is, and if I don’t like it, it will stop.”

Rassilon chuckled. “Investigate all you like. Don’t you have ambassadorial duties to perform?”

The Doctor spun on his heel and trod to the door. Behind him, Rassilon nodded to Syrlian, who raised a silver stick and pointed it at the Doctor.

The Doctor showed no sign he’d noticed that the TARDIS could show Donna. Her grip tightened on the message he’d left for Demeter. “You promised. Don’t make me send this.”

A moment later, Syrlian lowered the stick and turned his head toward Rassilon. Donna didn’t see any more of that exchange because the Doctor was exiting the room. Her heart pounded with each step he took back to the TARDIS. When he finally stepped through the door, she ran to tackle him in a hug. “Doctor!”

“You missed me that much?” He hugged her back, planting a kiss on her lips.

Donna got off of him and shut the door. “Yes. I’m an infant with separation anxiety. I can’t spend five minutes without you. No! The High Council did something while your back was turned. Syrlian had something that looked a lot like your screwdriver.”

“Oh.” He slid to the TARDIS screen and soniced it, freezing on the frame with the best view of the incident. He blanched. “That’s a sonic stethoscope.”

Donna stared at him. “A sonic _stethoscope?_ What were they trying to do, listen to your wacky heartbeat?”

“ _Hearts-beat_ , Donna. Time Lords have two hearts, and no, I think they were doing more than that.” He flipped a bunch of blue levers and switches, patting the console as he worked. “You’ll keep us in the vortex while I’m in the med bay, checking to see what they did to me, won’t you? That’s a good girl.”

Donna followed the Doctor through the long, curving halls. “What could they have done to you?”

“Something subtle or I’d have noticed. Boost my sperm production, or set a time-delay for an increase in libido, or…. I don’t have time to list them all.”

She clenched her fists. “They’re trying to trick you into mating with me.”

“Yeah.”

“And then they’re going to kill us both.”

“Yup.”

Her arms shook at her sides. “Whatever they’ve done, you can counter it, right?”

“Maybe.” He led them through a yellow door into a very yellow room with a waterbed. The walls were covered with painted bananas.

Donna gawked at the twisting, organically-inspired shapes of the unrecognizable equipment in the room. “This is your med bay?”

The Doctor shrugged. “I like bananas. They always make me feel better.”

“Right.” Donna plopped down in a white, velvet armchair. “What do you mean, _maybe?_ ”

He wheeled the waterbed over to a wall with a metal rod hanging low from the ceiling like a tree branch. “They might not even have done anything. They could have been checking for signs that we’ve already mated, or, well, signs that I’ve mated with someone. Who else would I be involved with but you?”

Donna snorted. “Like you wouldn’t have your pick, _Lord President._ ”

He flopped onto the bed. “Is that what you think I’m like? I can count on my hands the number of times I’ve had sex in the last 903 years.”

903? Was he serious? She knew Time Lords lived long, but why did someone so old get to look so good? Not that he was her type, but still, the Doctor was by no means rough on the eyes _,_ just unnaturally skinny. She bet a lot of women would love to get in his pants for that thick brown hair alone.

Blinking, she asked, “Are you sure? You spend a lot of time running around the universe.”

He flipped a switch and held relatively still in his chair. “I like adventure. Running’s my thrill, not sex.”

The TARDIS chimed and he slid off the bed, padding over to some screen to check the results. “The Time Lords didn’t do anything to me. Just a scan. Since we haven’t gone beyond kissing, we should be fine.”

So the Doctor said, but he was rocking on the balls of his feet, staring at the screen.

Donna contemplated getting up to join him, but she knew she wouldn’t understand anything anyway, and the last thing she wanted to see was anything like an x-ray of alien insides. “Was it really just a scan?”

“Yeah, it was a scan.” The Doctor stuck his hands in his pocket and shuffled to the door. “I’ve got some world leaders to phone on Earth, one of them in a sensitive time zone.”

If it was just a scan, what was he so worried about?


	11. Chapter 11 - In Which the Doctor is Hardly Heroic

Just hours later, thanks to the TARDIS, Donna was dressed in one of her red formal robes, funny headdress and all, and walking back to the console room to meet up with the Doctor and emerge into the streets of Washington DC. She looked ridiculous with the way the color clashed with her hair, and she didn't even have the poker face to fake some dignity.

Her only solace was that the Doctor looked almost as ridiculous. He had to be blind though, or at least color blind, the way his breath hitched as she approached.

She rolled her eyes. "Who's this President Erickson anyway? I've never heard of him."

"No, he's a few years after you came from. Don't mention it to anyone, okay?" The Doctor leaned toward her ear. "He's known as the President from Hell."

Donna backed away. The President from Hell? Her arms broke out in goosebumps. "Why's that?"

"Literally, he's from Hell. There's a place in Michigan named that." The Doctor's eyes twinkled.

Oh, he got her. He got her good. She smiled. Nice to know her husband could match her jokes.

Her offered her his arm. "He's a perfectly nice guy. Well, nice as that high of a politician can be anyway, but we're his guests, so we're all going to be on our best behavior. Ready to go?"

She grasped his elbow. "Let's just get this costume party over with."

"It's not a costume party," he said, walking them toward the TARDIS doors. "President Erickson invited us to the theater before we start the negotiations. Besides, you look as lovely as any beauty of Gallifrey."

"Flatterer." Donna allowed herself a small smile anyway. If she looked ridiculous, at least she had the excuse of it being an alien custom. Other women would be jealous regardless if they were still caught up on her husband. "Just tell me there won't be cameras."

"At this sort of thing?" The Doctor paused, his hand on the door handle. "Prepare your best smile. You're famous, Donna."

Oh, no. He could have warned her before they got to the door. The cameras were one thing at her wedding – she knew she didn't have to speak to reporters at all back then – but here? Would she have to make some sort of public speech or something? Not some stupid two paragraphs of ritual expressions that the Time Lords made her memorize either.

They stepped out onto a red carpet that parted a sea of flashing lights. Grinning, the Doctor waved at the crowd. He stole a moment to glance at Donna. "Go on. Wave."

Donna did, though her hand might well have been the needle of a seismograph. Here she was, waving at America's top reporters. Her. A temp from Chiswick. She wondered if they'd show how pale she must be at that moment. Probably. The news never did any politicians favors when it came to their appearance, did it? Never mind that she was only married to a politician. Worse yet, what if this was live?

She stumbled and found herself being held against the Doctor's side. Now red-faced, she accepted his help up, staring down toward his hem.

He leaned toward her ear. "You okay?"

Speaking softly for her voice not to carry to the paparazzi, she asked, "Why didn't you tell me before we came, you prawn?"

"Sorry. I didn't think." The Doctor pressed his lips against her cheek, where he let his breath linger.

She was going to kill him later, but as it was, President Erickson was striding toward them, raising a hand for a shake. "Lord President Doctor. It is a pleasure to meet you in person."

"Likewise."

When the Doctor took the president's hand, the president covered it with his own and pumped a few times.

The Doctor released his grip on Donna, instead placing his hand somewhere behind her left shoulder. "This is my wife, Donna. May I say that your planet has the bravest women?"

She'd have protested had they been anywhere else. Was the Doctor trying to embarrass her to death? Blushing like mad, she took the president's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. You have a beautiful wife, Lord President."

She bet President Erickson was obligated to say something like that. Fortunately for her red cheeks, he started leading them down the carpet, past the possibility of her humiliating herself any further in front of the press. "America," he said, "is a federal republic, a nation governed by principles once used by the Greeks and the Romans, two civilizations that defined life on the western part of our planet."

"Their cultures were quite rich in mythology as well." The Doctor grinned, bouncing a little. "Their myths have inspired more than a few theatrical productions throughout history, and the Greeks themselves wrote several fascinating tragedies."

Donna stared at him. How much did he know about Earth anyway?

President Erickson raised his eyebrows too. "You're well-informed."

"Yes, well, I'm quite fond of Earth, me. I used to run off here all the time when I was sick of other Time Lords."

Was that really something one of Gallifrey's leaders should admit to so easily? That he often got sick of being around Time Lords. Hoping she wouldn't make things worse, she caught President Erickson's eye before her husband could dig himself any deeper. "He just likes to travel."

President Erickson brought them into a large, round building with decorated columns holding up a canopied entrance. An engraved stone declared it to be the S. Lawrence Performing Arts Building. Some university theater?

The president led them through guarded halls and onto a balcony whose front rows were stringed off with a reservation sign. They sat there, in padded blue folding seats.

The Doctor leaned toward Donna's ear. "No cameras in here. Feeling better?"

She glared at him. "I'm not sure the perk of these seats makes up for them."

"Sorry."

He fell silent as the lights dimmed and the auditorium hushed. Moment later, a young man in a toga took center stage. "Good evening, Olympus-blessed audience!"

The Doctor gave a small smile at Donna. "Have you ever watched a Greek play before?"

He was trying hard to make this worth the press, wasn't he? He'd better keep trying, because with the warmth in his words, he was almost there. "I studied some in secondary school," Donna said. "I was okay in English. Just good enough to be an office temp."

"Don't sell yourself short. You're brilliant." The Doctor rested his hand on hers.

"You're proving me right about you being a flatterer." Donna relaxed anyway, turning her attention to the young man in the toga.

The young man was looking around at the audience, seeming to meet their eyes in the dark. "In ancient times, the Greeks believed that the course of life was determined by the Fates, by which even the gods were bound."

The Doctor gripped Donna's hand. She turned her head and found his eyes fixed up front. It was hard to tell in the dark, but she thought he looked a bit pale. "Doctor, do you believe in fate?"

"No, of course not." He withdrew his hand. "The idea that your future is unchangeable? That's only partially true. Nature of time and all that."

He was definitely scared of something, and Donna couldn't help but think of that prophesy back on Gallifrey. As long as the Doctor didn't run off halfway through the evening, she would leave it until later though.

"Perhaps the most tragic story on the idea is that of a man whose parents tried to cheat them, and in doing so set up their will to be fulfilled. Ladies and gentlemen, Oedipus Rex."

They all clapped politely as the young man left the stage. Everyone except the Doctor.

Donna put a hand on his knee. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm always alright." The words barely left his lips. His eyes were still locked onstage and his face had turned even whiter.

"Oi, Spaceman, look at me." Donna placed her fingers under his chin and turned it toward her. "Is that special Time Lord code for  _not alright at all?"_

Brushing her hand away, the Doctor gulped and averted his eyes. "I said I'm alright."

Donna wrapped her arm around his and interlocked their fingers. "Fine then. We can be alright together."

The Doctor was very quiet for the next hour and a half. So was Donna. She dared to look over as Iocaste took her own life. The Doctor's eyes were big and glossy, so she squeezed his hand and sent him a smile. He didn't smile back.

That failed, Donna brought her free hand over to massage his hand. "Not even the Time Lords can know everything about the future. We can still be alright. Properly alright."

He didn't speak. He just bowed his head toward his lap. He shut his eyes, tears leaking from the corners. Donna released his hand to instead pull him into the best hug she could give with a thick plastic armrest between them. He returned the hug and they held each other through the last few minutes of the play.

During curtain call, the Doctor sat up and wiped his eyes. He adopted his people's stoic expression. "Thank you."

He appeared composed as they chatted with President Erickson after the play, but he held Donna closely. Donna held him closely in return, and he excused them both at the first opportunity, claiming that TARDIS travel could be exhausting.

Donna didn't let him disappear once they were inside the TARDIS, accompanying him to a large library that smelled of books, ink, and a bit of chlorine. Through the packed shelves, she spied a patch of blue. Was that a swimming pool?

She blurted her question aloud.

"Yeah." The Doctor was browsing a shelf full of thick leather-bound volumes, running his fingers along the embroidered spine of  _A Consolidated History of New Earth, 3512._  "Haven't you ever wanted to read as you dip your feet in the water? It's very relaxing."

Donna stroked his arm. "Probably more relaxing than resigning yourself to the Matrix prophesies."

He frowned at her. "The Matrix is never wrong."

"I'm sure the Greeks thought the same things of their Oracle."

"It's not the same thing. We have time travel technology. They didn't." He plucked the history book from the shelf. "It's late. You should go to bed."

She crossed her arms. "Not until I'm sure you're actually alright."

Letting out a long breath, he gazed at the ceiling. "I've had a rough night. I just want to sit down with a book."

"If you keep running from your problems, they'll never get fixed!" Donna's eyes widened. "I can't believe I just said that. I'm turning into my nag of a mother."

"So your true nature comes out."

"Excuse me! I just spent an evening with my arms full of a terrified alien. Whatever caused that was serious. I'm trying to help you."

The Doctor flinched. "I wasn't scared."

"Sure you weren't. And I ain't ginger." She held her eyes on him.

He looked away. "Well, maybe I was a little scared, but not  _terrified._  Well, not that terrified, and anyway, you didn't actually have your arms full of me most of the time, though I am glad that you like my hand."

She crossed her arms. "You've given up. Is that it?"

He started pacing, running a hand through his wild hair. "I haven't given up. I never give up. Not when it's important. But there are some things you just can't fix. Every single Matrix prophesy, Donna. Every single one! Not even the other Time Lords could prevent this, no matter how low they stoop. It's all I can do to put it off until it would happen anyway, whether I interfered or not!"

Donna shook her head. "How does the Matrix work anyway? It seems to be a bunch of Time Lords believing they don't have a choice."

"No, we have a choice. We always have a choice." The Doctor pulled on his hair, looking up at the bookcases' tapered tops. "The Matrix is designed to look at all Gallifrey's possible futures, but sometimes, there will always be someone who will choose to do something – no one specifically, just someone." He swallowed. "Or sometimes, a specific someone will make the same choice no matter what. It's just who they are."

He didn't seem to notice Donna take a step toward him, being too busy staring at nothing in particular. She placed a hand behind his back. "You think it's us."

He waved his hands in front of himself. "No. It's not us. We didn't choose to marry each other under Gallifreyan law."

"You think it's you then." She rubbed a circle between his shoulder blades. They only got tenser.

"No. No, I don't think that."

Swallowing tears, Donna whispered, "You know it's you then."

"No! No no no. No no  _no._ " He escaped from her and backed against the bookshelves. "It can't be. I'm not…." Whatever his denial, it died on his lips.

Noticing him trembling, Donna pulled him into a full-on hug. "I don't believe you have to do anything just because some computer says you will."

He hung his head. "I know, and that's the worst part. It's not an obligation: it's a fact. Please don't tell anyone."

"Of course not." Donna rubbed at his stiff muscles. "What does the prophesy say you'll do?"

He took a deep breath. "When I said there's a good chance that the Hybrid is half-Time Lord, half-human, I meant that I'm one hundred percent certain of it." His face took a green tint, and for a moment, Donna worried he wasn't going to answer. When he continued, it was in little more than a whisper. "The Hybrid is me."

No wonder he was so terrified! Donna kissed his cold cheek. "Do you have any place we can sit down?"

He nodded. "Yeah. There's a sofa on the other side of the swimming pool. Really soft. If we sit in it, we'll sink into the padding and never want to get up."

Donna stroked his sideburn. "That's a risk I'm willing to take."

She kept the conversation on lighter topics until they were cuddling on the sofa. She noted that the Doctor wasn't quite as bony as she'd imagined he'd be. There were those abs she'd noticed earlier and other hard muscles throughout his tall, skinny body. Oh, she'd happily snuggle with him all he wanted. She just wished they could do it when he wasn't hurting so badly.

He seemed better now that he'd confided in her. Not fine, but better. His breaths tickled her cheek warmly and steadily, and his usual freckled pinkish-orange colored his face.

Donna kept up her massages anyway. "You alright now?"

"Almost." The Doctor pulled her to his chest, where she could hear his hearts thumping like a human's with an echo. They were going a little fast, weren't they? Or was that normal? "What about you? You must be tired."

She grinned into his silky robe, enjoying it as he petted her head. "Don't try to change the subject. How do I help you?"

"Just don't turn me in. I'll be alright." He sniffled. "Gallifrey won't be. Eventually."

Donna rested a hand over one of his hearts. "I can't see you purposely destroying your home planet. You'd be innocent in it, or you'd have good reason."

His hand nested in Donna's hair. "The prophesies say it will be to mend my own broken hearts. Hardly heroic."

"But why are your hearts broken?" There had to be a good reason for him to destroy Gallifrey, hadn't there? Tears pricked in Donna's eyes.

She could hardly hear the Doctor's voice when he said, "Dunno." He wrapped his arms around her. "But I suspect whoever the alien on Gallifrey is will have her heart broken too, or worse. They say she's the only one who could influence how I could destroy the planet."

Donna gazed up at his face. She could almost buy that he was expressive as a stone if not for his empty eyes. She worked a hand into his hair. "If you don't know, then how do you know you aren't heroic? Maybe your alien will help you take charge of your destiny and turn it into a good thing." She battered her eyes. "If there's one person I know who cares enough to do that, it's you."

The Doctor's eyes widened. Slowly, he smiled down at Donna. "We've been so blind. I didn't choose you as my wife, but I did choose you as my friend."

Her eyes widened too. "So it really is us."

He nodded slightly. "You know what else?"

"What?"

The Doctor paused, gazing into her eyes. "I want to tell you my name."

"The name you use to make a mental link? The one that will marry us for real? That name?" Donna's heart pounded. Her body lightened. Her face grew into a smile.

The Doctor smiled back. "What other?"

Then finally, finally Donna said the words she'd been wanting to say to someone as long as she could remember: "Yes, I'll marry you."

Now beaming, the Doctor kissed her ear. "Right then. We'll have to work with your mental abilities. Get you ready for a full-time bond." He stroked her cheek on his way to her temple. "For now, if it's alright…?"

"Yeah."

His mind wrapped around hers like a blanket, and it brought his emotions with them. Joy, that was the big one. Joy and relief. Love and gratitude. "I love you too," she murmured, eyelids heavy and weighing her into his chest.

* * *

The rest of the trip went smoothly. The Doctor presented the Americans with a sculpture from Gallifrey, a trinket of goodwill. He worked out trade with President Erickson while Donna went on an outing with the American First Lady, getting caught up on the British elections in the process.

As relieved as Donna was that Saxon was going, she hoped that the expected winner, Harriet Jones, or whoever would take office, would rectify his insane reaction to Time Lords over one rogue. Saxon wasn't allowing them back in the UK even to return British workers, but that wasn't entirely unexpected. Instead, the nation's taxpayers would be purchasing air fare for the expats being dropped off at JFK.

On their last day in DC, the Doctor took Donna for a stroll through a park. Each held a Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate as they walked on an asphalt path through brown grass and barren cherry trees, quietly discussing their future away from other park-goers. The sun peeked through the clouds at the couple.

"So is it the people you'll have to destroy, or just the planet?"

The Doctor brought his eyes back from people-watching and shrugged. "The prophecy says  _Gallifrey._  I don't want that to mean people."

Donna didn't either. It would be a tragedy for the Time Lords, and it would destroy the Doctor too. She saw the way his eyes kept gliding toward the little girls giggling on the creaking swings and the children shouting as they chased a baseball. With the glistening in his eyes, she wondered if his hearts were already broken. He could never have children of his own, could he? Even if he were married to a Time Lady. It was too risky with his culture the way it was. Watching his face, she asked, "If you could choose anything for your life, what would it look like?"

He blinked the tears away, breathing in slowly through his mouth. "I just want a family. A wife. Kids. Grandkids. Great-grandkids. More. I don't want to destroy Gallifrey, and I don't want to be alone."

Just as she thought. Donna drained the last dregs of her caramel-filled chocolate and tossed the cup into a nearby can. She wrapped her hands around the Doctor's. "You have me."

He smiled, but it faded quickly. "You're going to die. Several decades, that's the most you've got."

Donna hadn't thought about what the difference in lifespan would do to him. He was breaking her heart just with words. How could his be intact? She squeezed gently. "Then find someone after I'm gone. I'll live long enough to help you with the prophesy, but you'll need the support."

His lips twitched. "You already have: what I'm destined to do doesn't have to be a bad thing."

She ran her fingers over the back of his hand. "Then until the future is clearer, let's focus on the present. What can we do to help our peoples now?"

"We can work out what the High Council is up to and put a stop to it." He squeezed her hand playfully. "I'm supposed to pick up an American workforce in one month. Back to the TARDIS?"

"You bet. It's still freezing in February."

They raced back along the park's trail until they reached the blue telephone box the Doctor was so fond of. Inside, he dashed around, laughing as he threw some levers. "Early March, here we come!"


	12. Chapter 12 - In Which Time Lord Kisses Can Stop Time

The trip was a bit rough, as usual. This time, the Doctor asked Donna to help by holding a triangular black button and spinning a glittery dial. “I really ought to teach you how to fly her sometime!” Still crackling, the Doctor stretched his leg across the console to flip a switch with his white Converse.

Donna smiled. In that case, they’d have a third of the pilots they were supposed to rather than a sixth. “Yeah, you’d better.”

They landed with a bump that jostled Donna into a typewriter. “To be clear, we’re transporting the Americans in this? Just the two of us?”

“Yup.” The Doctor leaned against the console. “I need the chance to tell them to let me know if they’re treated poorly, and I want to get some ideas from them anyway. You humans are so good at finding patterns that aren’t there that you’re very useful in identifying obscure ones that are.”

Donna bristled. “Oi! What’s with the back-handed compliment?”

The Doctor blinked. Didn’t he know how rude he was being? “It’s just an analysis. You humans can be quick to blame curses and the supernatural for things you don’t understand – you know the type I’m talking about, but then there are those who thought correctly that world governments have been covering up the existence of aliens.”

Glaring at him, Donna crossed her arms. “So it’s an accident when we make correct deductions?”

He winced. “No, sorry. Forget how I said that. Anyway, let’s not leave the workers waiting outside any longer.” He paused. “There might be cameras. You can stay in here if you want.”

Donna checked her reflection in one of the screens. At least she wasn’t wearing a robe that went horridly with her ginger. “It’s fine. I’ll come. Just don’t expect me to talk to the press.”

Grinning, he led them to the doors and opened them to blinding sunlight and a deafening cheers. They’d landed on a small court just off a long, cement walkway lined with green lawns, blooming trees with flowers at their bases, and lots and lots of pedestrians. “Wayne State University in Detroit, Michigan,” he whispered in Donna’s ear. “President Erickson’s alma mater.”

The near side of the walkway was portioned off with a portable red velvet rope. About three dozen people with suitcases and construction uniforms lined up along it. But surrounding them, what a reception!

Green-and-gold banners welcomed them to campus. Off to the sides, colorful signs swore friendship or damnation to the Time Lords – quotes, catchphrases, and scriptoral verses supporting both opinions.

On the stairway to a green-striped building, fans had T-shirts, costumes, and books with the same two characters: a young, big-eared Time Lord with close-cropped hair; and a teenage girl with a wide mouth and hair dyed blonde except at the roots. Donna noticed titles like _When Time Rose_ and _A Lordly Love._ There were even the two models for the book covers, wearing their costumes and waving at the new arrivals.

The Doctor chuckled, waving back to the models. “Christopher Eccleston,” he whispered in Donna’s ear. “He’s here all the way from the UK. He made an impression on me in his future. Well, his history will have changed now that the average human knows about Time Lords, but I met him in the previous timeline. He got in my subconscious and was the model for my last body in fact.”

Donna glanced at him. “Just an analysis here, but you Time Lords are so quick to shape yourselves after supermodels and people you admire. Did your people have a bad experience with other species not liking it? Is that why you lot were so closed off until now?”

The Doctor nodded. “Part of it, well, small part of it, but it’s not really fair, is it? Our women can consciously influence what they look like to some degree – very few have perfect enough control to intentionally copy someone – but us males? We don’t have any conscious sway over how we get our new looks.”

He grinned. “Glad to see Chris is doing well. He might even be able to keep his modeling career this time around, now that he’s apparently on the cover of a best-selling romance series. Well, he and his girlfriend, Rose Tyler.”

Donna snorted. _When Time_ Rose indeed.

The Doctor leaned closer to Donna’s ear. “Not that it’s a particularly realistic romance, mind you. Most Time Lords wouldn’t risk going for another species.” He smirked. “But kissing a human isn’t so bad.”

With no further warning, he pecked Donna’s lips, causing the young women in the crowd to giggle and the young men to whistle. The prawn did it on purpose! Donna felt her face burning red as the Doctor pulled back, but he grinned instead of apologizing.

“Right.” He took a step toward the workers. “Hello! I’m the Doctor. I’m looking for those of you with papers?”

The workers lined up, and with one glance at their background check results, the Doctor wrote something in the visa section of their passports in lieu of an insert. Several asked Donna questions as they loaded their luggage into, not the console room, but a lobby. “What’s their planet like?” “Are Time Lords really as sexy as they say?” and “How are these things bigger on the inside?”

Donna couldn’t answer all the questions, but she answered what she could. She herself was trying to figure out how the doors suddenly led to a spacious, white-rugged room with wooden floors, round coffee tables, and coral-print sofas and armchairs instead of to the console room. She was relieved to see luggage straps for each passenger and a seat belt for everyone.

Finally, the Doctor helped the last passenger heft an over-sized gray suitcase aboard, chatting away about watts and voltage. “Now that everyone’s here, welcome to the TARDIS. We’ll be leaving for Gallifrey immediately, so make yourselves comfortable while I get us underway. Donna, could you tell them a bit about the planet as seen from a human perspective?”

He could have told her in advance! Hmph. At least the group wasn’t swimming in cameras. “Okay.” She looked around at the passengers as the Doctor slipped into the corridors. “First thing you should know is flying in this thing can be as bumpy as a camel, so buckle up.”

The Americans did, with all sorts of comments about flying first class, stupid YA romance novels, and bridges in _Star Trek._ Afterward, Donna was more than happy to tell them about hanging out with her Time Lord friends in the Citadel.

They had a lot of questions of course. A bunch of stupid misconceptions too, probably from that book series whose fans had greeted the TARDIS. “Can Time Lord kisses really stop time?”

Donna hadn’t noticed that the Doctor was back until he spoke. “No. It would take something much more powerful than a kiss to do that.” He was plopped back into a studded armchair, converses crossed on a coffee table. Really? That was the posture he used as Lord President of Gallifrey? Even Donna knew better, and she was a temp from Chiswick.

Perhaps he picked up on her disapproval because he pulled his feet off the table and sat up. “Not that it matters much. Most Time Lords are incapable of feeling _that_ kind of urge.”

The Americans looked at him as though just realizing he was an alien. One stocky guy with permanently wide eyes had his jaw dropped. “But then, where do little Time Lords come from?”

“From the Looms. They’re machines that weave segments of our DNA together to make a toddler.”

There were several raised brows among the workers and lots of chatter among themselves.

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor said, loudly enough to make himself heard. “This must be very strange for you. Until recently, my ship and I would have been something straight out of your science fiction. I’m not sure what you make of our Looms. You can tell me. I won’t be offended.”

There was a niggling in Donna’s mind. The Doctor wasn’t using hypnosis on them, was he?

She unbuckled and went to squeeze into his armchair. “That’s not hypnosis, is it?”

“Just enough to encourage them to relax and open up.”

Their conversation ended with roaring laughter coming from the Americans. Donna thought she heard the words _Vulcans_ and _Romulans._

Then the Doctor joined in. “Yup. Vulcans with Looms. It’s not a perfect summary of our snootiest class, but it is very good. So you’re not weirded out by our reproduction? No horror stories running through your minds?”

“What’s stopping your upper classes from making babies however they choose? The best athlete or the perfect scholar or whatever? No poor, enslaved, genetically inferior lower classes?”

The Doctor smiled. “That was almost the case billions of years ago, but we had good leaders at the time.”

“So you’re all clones?”

“No, not clones. Our babies get DNA from both parents, so our children are just normal children. There just happens to be a machine involved.” The Doctor paused. “Well, and don’t talk about this mind you, but occasionally there are children born organically. They’re not clones either. Well, not unless they’re an identical twin or something to start off, but those are natural clones. You humans have them too.”

The permanently wide-eyed worker laughed. “That’s true. We hardly ever think to count them as clones. But seriously, as long as the clones aren’t programmed to never even question orders like _kill all Jedi_ or something, they’re fine.”

That sparked a hot debate, but Donna got the impression that the Doctor was no longer listening. He’d gasped softly, and one of his hearts was pounding against her side. “Spaceman?”

“I think mental programming might be exactly what the High Council is planning. Those blueprints make sense now.” He grabbed Donna’s hand. “If they’ve Loomed enough Time Tots fully-grown like that, I may have to destroy Gallifrey to give the rest of my people a chance.” He choked. “No more unaltered children.”

Donna squeezed his hand. “Are your hearts broken?”

“Yeah.”

She chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “I told you we could make it something good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you did.” He hid his emotions under a mask, wiggling out from under Donna. He strode into the center of the debate. “Anyway, do you have any more concerns about our Looms? They’re the primary reason we’ve recruited you for clean-up. No? Good. We’ll be arriving in the city of Olyesti soon. I’ll introduce you to the supervisor, Gawain – decent man – but for now, I’ve got to go land.”

It didn’t take him long to do so. The cloister bell was ringing before Donna knew it.

When they left the TARDIS this time, they were again greeted with cheers. However, there were again few _boos_ mixed in and shouts of _get off our planet, you amoral aliens!_

The British workers were packed, ready to leave, but they were busy arguing with some Gallifreyans in heavy red armor. Crowds of red, white, black, and orange were drowning each other out, and pushing his way through was Gawain. “Lord President!”

Donna looked at her husband. “It’s like we were actually expected.”

He flinched. “Time Lords have the technology to detect a TARDIS before it materializes. It’s gotten me in trouble before. Once I landed near the capitol on the day our retiring president was murdered.”

Gawain broke through branches of arms and sprinted toward them. “Lord President! The High Council’s made it worse, I’m afraid, and they’ve got a warrant out to bring you in for questioning.”

“What?” The Doctor yanked at his hair. “It’s been four days. How could they have made things any worse in that time?”

“They’ve sent guards from the Citadel to make sure no _idiot_ attempts to repair the Looms on their own, the humans here have been harassed, and so have _our own citizens!_ The government is blaming you. I’ve told Olyesti what I know of what’s going on, but the Council still has some convinced. We’ve started fighting among ourselves.” Gawain had all those words out so quickly that Donna wondered if Time Lords actually needed to breathe.

Behind her and the Doctor, the Americans were starting to disembark. The Doctor looked back at them. “Change of plans. You’re going back to Earth for a bit. It’s not safe here.”

He called out to the British to join them, but the guards prevented them. One of the guards, a hulk with spring-coiled black hair leveled his gun at the workers. “The Doctor will surrender himself to interrogation in the Capital immediately, or we will start shooting hostages.”

Shaking, the Doctor raised his hands. “Alright, I’m going. Just let me say goodbye to my wife.”

The guard narrowed his eyes, but he nodded. “You have fifteen seconds.”

Donna’s breath caught in her throat. “Doctor-”

“Sh.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Donna, I’m so sorry. I need you and Gawain to get everyone in the TARDIS to safety. Can you do that for me?”

No. She didn’t know how to pilot a TARDIS or anything. “Doctor-”

“Time’s up!” called the guard. He aimed his gun right at a human, Lance. There was a terrible high-pitched whine and Lance hit the pavement, motionless.

Tears streamed from Donna’s eyes. The captives screamed. Olyesti’s citizens jostled and shouted.

The Doctor raised his hands again. “Enough! I’m going, see? Just don’t kill anyone else.” His legs carried him toward the guards. Donna tried to follow him.

“No!” he shouted. “Stay here.”

“You’d better be alive the next time I see you, Spaceman!”

He was nearly out of shouting range now. “No worries. I’ve still things to do, remember?”

A guard led him to a portable teleport and turned it on. One moment, the Doctor was there. The next, he was gone.

“He’s done nothing, you thugs! And not even Lance deserved what you did to him. You’re the ones in the wrong, and guess what? Me and my husband are going to press charges when all this is through. What is the maximum penalty on Gallifrey anyway?” Donna would have continued, but two wrinkled hands – stronger than she expected – pushed her to the ground.

She hadn’t seen another of the guards raising a weapon her way, and now Gawain was crumpled on the ground, body glowing. “Get in the TARDIS!” he hissed at her.

Her eyes widened. She’d just cost someone a life. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I can do to make this up to you.”

“IN!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My upcoming Doctor Who crossover is coming along nicely, so here are some hints to find the references to my new fandom: there's one in the final chapter of Chiswick Mercy, and there's one in Chapter 11 of this story.


	13. Chapter 13 - In Which Gawain is the Doctor

She dashed aboard, taking shelter behind a wall. There, she stared as Gawain exploded into flames and came back as an Asian teen with fuzzy hair. He bounded up, pointing a finger at the shooter. “They didn’t have to do that, just because we disagreed with the capitol. Who else are they going to silence?”

The Time Lord crowd roared and broke out their fists. Some attacked the guards and the guards opened fire. Some of Olyesti’s own pummeled those shouting at the guards. Thrown bits of rubble flew through the air.

Donna took advantage of the guard’s distraction to call to the captive workers, “Oi! You lot. This way.”

Gawain stepped toward the TARDIS. “The Lord President whispered instructions into your ear. What were they?”

“He wanted you and me to get the humans to safety.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, yes. Everyone knows he has a soft spot for your species, but we don’t have time to run anyone to Earth. Lord President Doctor may be standing before an execution panel.” He shot her a glance with fiercely black eyes. “Get in. Get properly in.”

Donna made way for the British workers dashing aboard. Her heart sunk as she caught a glimpse of bodies lying outside. Some wore the reflective yellow clothing of Earth’s workers. Some wore the loose robes of Gallifrey’s residents, not all of them showing signs of regeneration.

The last of the surviving humans stumbled aboard, nursing a bleeding leg. Moments later, Gawain and a crowd of other Gallifreyans rushed into the lounge. “Shut the door!” Gawain shouted. “We need six pilots to take us to the capitol building.”

Six Time Lords rushed off. Gawain stumbled a bit on his now too-long robe as he turned to face the humans. “You lot will be safest if you stay in here. There’s no need for you to involve yourself in our internal affairs. You too, First Lady Donna.”

The rest of the Time Lords raced off. Donna followed them. “Oi!” she cried after Gawain. “That’s my husband you’re saving. I’m worried about him too.”

Gawain tripped on his robe and tumbled to the floor. Donna stepped beside him. “Besides, you just regenerated. You’re going to get yourself killed if you keep running around in your old clothes.”

“Perhaps I’ll borrow some clothes from this TARDIS first then, but your safety is important.” He got to his feet. “I saw how the Doctor looked at you when you visited the Loomhouse. What do you think it would do to him if you got killed?”

The cloister bell rang. “We’re here,” he said. “I’ll get clothes and go. You wait back with the other humans.”

She hated that there wasn’t much she could do to help. Perhaps she could at least comfort the other humans, or at least give them the truth about what was going on. They deserved that much. Several had just had friends killed right in front of their eyes.

A lumped formed in her throat. Sure, he was the scummiest man she’d ever dated, but still, poor Lance. “Fine. I’ll wait here.”

She returned along the hall, but it wasn’t the same one she remembered. The corridor she’d chased Gawain along was straight. This one was curved. What was more, she didn’t see any doors along it at all to return to the lounge either.

Had she gone the wrong way? She turned to backtrack, but the passageway she’d just walked out of was a dead end. Stupid ship! “Oi! Were you trying to get me lost? Well, congratulations.”

At her complaint, something beeped in the passage behind her. She muttered her way to the source of the sound. It was a single door that slid open when she got close enough.

On the other side was the console room. Gawain was standing there in a hula shirt and a pair of mint green knickers, pulling on levers and turning dials. “Come on. Why won’t you unlock the door?”

Donna stepped in. “She’s got a mind of her own. She wouldn’t even let me back to the lobby.”

Gawain looked up. “Perhaps it’s just as well that she won’t open her doors then. Maybe there’s someone she doesn’t want to let in with you here.”

They would all be safe in the TARDIS. Donna patted a coral strut. “Thanks for looking out for us. Are your monitors still hooked up to the Doctor? I know you care for him. I do too. I want to see if he’s okay.”

After pausing to listen, Gawain shook his head. “That would be a _no._ ”

Donna stroked the coral. “Something you want us to do then?”

The outer door clicked, but it didn’t open. Gawain reached for the monitor. “Hang on. I can set it to me and turn the communicator on. You can stay and watch my back from here while I see what this time capsule wants.”

Donna smiled. At least that was more useful than hanging out in the lobby. “Okay.”

Gawain had it set up in a jiffy, only to show Donna a blank screen. He kicked the console stand. “I know I set that up correctly. What is wrong with you?”

Donna’s eyes went toward the touch pad interface. “Is it me you want to do something outside?”

Gawain swore loudly, quickly apologizing to Donna. Then he started growling at the time rotor. “She is the First Lady of Gallifrey. You can’t just risk her life like this. She can’t go running around the capitol building with the state our planet’s in.”

The outer door cracked open. Donna took a step toward it. “The Doctor’s shown me how much he trusts his ship. She’s constantly taking him off-course, but he goes along with it instead of abandoning her, so I’m going to trust her too. Will you come with me as back-up?”

Rubbing his temples, Gawain mumbled, “I guess I have no choice.”

They stepped out, but they were not in the capitol building, nor was there any sign of the mob Gawain recruited to free the Doctor. They were in the capitol though, judging by the familiar crack pattern in the city dome, but they were not on streets Donna was familiar with. The place was almost empty in the second sunset.

There was only a petite Time Lady across the street in a short-sleeved robe with bright yellow floral patterns on its wide hems, wearing her hair cropped short and pinned with live flowers Donna swore were familiar. The Time Lady squealed and sprinted across the street to catch her in a hug. “Donna! You’re okay. We thought something happened to you.”

Whoever this was, she clearly knew her. “Yes,” said Donna. “I’m fine. Where is everyone?”

“It’s the patrols,” the Time Lady whispered, yanking Donna toward a teleport. “No one wants to look like they’re trying to sneak near the Loomhouse in the cover of darkness. I wouldn’t be here, but we can’t find Myecet anywhere.”

“Not Myecet!” Not one of her friends. And if this Time Lady was out looking for her, she was one of their mutual friends from chess, regenerated. Something terrible had happened here while she was away.

Slowly, her mind placed the flowers. “Himecien? Is that you?”

“My name is _Himecet._ ” Himecet was programming the teleport. “Himecien is a boy’s name. I’m back to normal now.”

Gawain pulled Donna away from the teleport. “Where are we going?”

“The temporary housing. I’m scared of what the patrol will do to you two if they catch you. Your TARDIS is unmistakable, Doctor. Now come on.” Himecet beckoned them toward the machine.

Gawain stepped forward to examine the teleport settings instead. “I’m not the Doctor.”

Himecet gasped and grabbed Donna’s arm. She pulled her into the teleport. The next moment, they were in the nook of a narrow hallway. Himecet pushed her forward. “First stairs, down three stories, turn right, third left, tenth door on the left. Run!”

“What about you?”

Himecet wiped tears from her eyes. “I’ll distract the soldier. Tell Terraviel I love him. Run!” She shoved Donna away.

Donna ran. First stairs, down three stories, turn right…. Good job she could deal with details, or she’d have gotten lost from Himecet’s rushed directions. She reached her friends’ door and glanced behind to make sure she wasn’t followed. Then she pounded on the door for all she was worth.

It was answered by another face she didn’t recognize: a graying, middle-aged woman whose hair hung limply in front of her splotchy face. “Donna?”

She wiped her eyes. “Himecet found me near the Looms. She said to tell Terraviel she loves him.”

“Her,” said the woman quietly, looking at the hardwood. “I’m a lady now.” She stepped back from the door. “Come in.”

Donna entered a room the size of a half-court, plain cushions in the center, a counter with a sink, some shelves, and a jar of nutrition cubes against one wall. There was nothing by way of decoration, and the lights seemed to be on their way out. She tried to pull Terraviel into a hug, but Terraviel started to push her away. Donna pulled back of her own accord. “Sorry.”

Terraviel surprised her by initiating a hug. “No, it’s okay. I keep forgetting I’m a female now. Females do hugs.”

“Not liking hugs doesn’t make you less of a female, if that’s what you want to be.” Oh, Donna had so many questions about this switching sex thing. It looked like it was natural for Time Lords, but why did they do it? Not by choice, it seemed.

Terraviel pulled her arms back. “I’ve got to. I didn’t know what it was like in my last body, so I pressured Himecet into acting more masculine.” She bit her lip. “Other Time Lords made the transition look so easy, but all she wanted was to go back to being female. I wouldn’t let her. This is my punishment.”

Donna was sure Himecet called Terraviel _him_. “I think she forgives you.” Or she did forgive her. Tears returned to Donna’s eyes.

Silently, Terraviel led her to the cushions and sat down. Then, staring at her lap, she asked, “What happened to my sister?”

“I don’t know. She teleported us here in a hurry. Then she said she was going to distract the soldier after us. She was insisting that I go on without her. She was crying.”

Terraviel pulled her knees to her chest. “She was looking for Myecet, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah.” Donna scooted her cushion to Terraviel’s side. She almost put an arm around her until she remembered that she didn’t like hugging. “What happened to you? Myecet’s missing, and you and Himecet both regenerated since last I saw you.”

Tears streamed down Terraviel’s face. Never mind her feelings about hugs – she really needed one!

Terraviel ended up drying her eyes on Donna’s shoulder. “We wanted to see if it was true that there's a working Loom in the Citadel, so the three of us sneaked into the Loomhouse. They weren’t looming babies – they were looming full-grown soldiers! Then – then someone spotted Myecet. We ran away. They shot my sister and I in the back. We regenerated. We made it home before Himecet collapsed with regeneration sickness. I didn’t want to scare her, but while she was comatose, the soldiers came and took Myecet. I should have told her. Then she wouldn’t have been out looking for her. This is all my fault!”

“It is not.” Donna held Terraviel tighter. “I’m sure if Himecet were here, she’d say-”

“That was a close one!” Himecet bound through the door, dangling a cauterized severed hand from her left hand. “Look how close the soldier got. Look!” She waved it back and forth. “The teleport cut out as he was coming through. I think maybe that guy with you did something.” Her mood changed abruptly. “He never made it through either. I waited for him. Please tell me he was telling the truth when he said he’s not the Doctor.”

Terraviel leaped to her feet. “Himecet! Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry. I needed to get Donna to safety. She may be the Doctor’s Gremlin, but he is her Arodyther. Besides, they wouldn’t do that.”

Donna still didn’t know what her friend was talking about. “But you’re okay?”

Himecet nodded. “I thought you and the Doctor could use some information on the Loomhouse before charging in. Even for being loomed as adults, those aren’t normal soldiers.” She tossed the hand to Donna. “Look! The skin’s already rough and calloused, not new and fresh.”

Donna’s stomach churned. “Why are you tossing a severed body part around? It may be made out of rubble, but it’s as disturbing as though it were any of ours.”

Terraviel kicked the hand. “Rubble? It doesn’t seem like rubble. Why would it be rubble?”

Swallowing bile, Donna said, “That man with me is called Gawain. He works at the Loomhouse in Olyesti, and he let the Doctor and I examine the plans for repairing the Looms. The new ones are designed to use rubble instead of protein, and … the Doctor thinks the High Council is programming them to do their bidding.”

Himecet crinkled her nose. “Time Lords made of rubbish. Rubbish Time Lords controlled by the government.”

Donna nodded. “Yeah.”

“Where is he now?” Terraviel asked. “The Doctor.”

“The High Council took him. Gawain brought a group here from Olyesti to get him back. He and I got separated from them.”

Terraviel and Himecet exchanged looks. Terraviel nodded.

Himecet took Donna’s hand and started toward the door. “We’ll join in. There are a lot of folks here who will want to help. We have too many people missing, and we want our Looms back!”

They gathered nearly a hundred Time Lords and teleported into the capitol building. Two in battered armor stood at the door, but they quickly lowered their weapons. “You don’t feel like the new Loomlings. You come to take our rights back too?”

They roared a yes as more of their number piled in.

One of the soldiers nodded toward the door. “Go on. We’re covering the teleport.”

Being the most familiar with the building, Donna led them to the courtroom floor. They burst in and found a battle already underway.

A Time Lord lay dead in the accused’s balcony. Donna forced herself to note only that he wasn’t dressed like the Doctor.

Feet below that Time Lord, a Councilor lay in a pool of orange blood.

Bile rose again in Donna’s throat. Around her, civilians were fighting with anything they had. Soldiers were firing energy weapons, and both sides were wearing the same uniform. It looked like a warped free-for-all.

Trembling, Donna slid along the wall. She looked around for the Doctor’s overcoat and pinstripes. She couldn’t care less if he’d regenerated now, so long as he was still alive. Dear God, if there was a god who cared about face-changing half-aliens, let him be alive.

Donna crept through the fallen civilians, peering through the brawling masses.

Boom!

The ceiling rained dust. The floor tilted sideways. They fell. They hurdled toward the street below.

Donna shut her eyes. Tears leaked from them. She thought she heard the Doctor calling her name. For a moment, she thought he was preparing her to join him in death.


	14. In Which Gallifrey is Destroyed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time:
> 
> A crowd from Olyesti goes to rescue the Doctor, but in the capitol, the TARDIS prevents Donna and Gawain from going with them. The ship instead sends them to learn about the operational Loom and recruit help from the temporary housing.  
> When Donna reaches the fight, there's an explosion and the Doctor cries out her name as everything collapses.

 

She landed on something soft and fleshy. Two hearts beat wildly below her ear. Not a corpse then. She’d take that.

All around her, there was a bright glow that penetrated her eyelids. It was far too bright.

Reflexively, she buried her head in the Time Lord’s manly chest. He smelled good, like bananas. He smelled familiar. For a millisecond, she let herself relax and forget what she was in the middle of.

Cool fingers touched her temples. Something calm brushed against her mind. “Donna, are you injured?” It was the Doctor’s voice.

She opened her eyes. Below her was the Doctor’s blue-and-black pinstripe suit, stained with red dust and burnt-orange spots. She pushed herself up quickly, flinching when she moved her aching left arm. That was bruised under her purple jacket’s sleeve, wasn’t it? “I’m not dying. You?”

He propped himself up. “I got lucky. I don’t have to regenerate.”

He was injured though. Donna would have to be blind to miss the way he flinched and lowered himself against what was formerly a piece of thick white railing. Despite his obvious pain, he reached to brush Donna’s hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I had to set off the blast. I just wish I’d known you were here before I did it.”

“Doctor, I was in the city earlier. One of the Loomlings lost a hand….” She breathed the story into his ear. “People have been going missing from the city. They took my friend Myecet because she saw something.”

He paled. “Their bodies aren’t like rubble, you said? I knew we didn’t have the manpower to clean up so quickly with the limited help we allowed from Earth. I bet even those who supposedly went home were used as raw materials. The High Council’s sacrifices to create slaves.”

All around them, Time Lords were getting to their feet in misfitting clothes and digging their friends out of the rubble. One Councilor walked toward them, smirking, No, that wasn’t the seal of an ordinary council member – that was Rassilon himself. He was fit, young, and looked able to seduce all the martian ladies on this planet with a flip of his rich black hair or a wink of his chocolate eyes. Oh, like he needed any more power.

He puffed his chest out when he stood just out of the Doctor’s reach. “So, Doctor, you’ve failed.” His voice boomed as though he were wearing a hidden microphone.

Donna glanced at the Doctor. “What does he mean?”

“I was trying to break their psychic control over the soldiers they Loomed.” The Doctor pointed out all the guns trained on them with his eyes.

“This is a great day for Gallifrey,” Rassilon continued. “This is the day we thwart the Matrix’s worst prophesy: the prophesy of the Hybrid.”

Donna’s heart tore as she saw Terraviel unearth her sister, who was wearing a second new face: a chestnut-haired beauty with rosy cheeks and a delicate chin. She stood alongside Himecet as she straightened up.

“How’s that?” Himecet shouted at Rassilon. “Going after the Doctor won’t change anything. He’s one of Gallifrey’s greatest heroes. He knows better than to create a hybrid with his wife. Everyone who came to save him trusts him not to do that.”

A few of the soldiers trained their guns at her, but Rassilon held up a hand. “Let her be. She’s just a confused civilian. There have been too many of those killed today. We would not have killed any were it not necessary to defend ourselves.” Rassilon took a step away from the Doctor and looked around at the crowd. “You’ve misunderstood our intentions. It’s true that the Doctor was once our greatest child. Perhaps that’s the most tragic part: this is the story of a fallen hero.”

The Doctor caught Donna’s eye. “You’ve got to act like you didn’t know or they’ll kill you too,” he mouthed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She leaned forward. “But what about the prophesies? Every single one. You can’t die yet.”

He gulped. “There’s one possibility we haven’t considered: that I’m executed for my broken-hearted actions, my death is so controversial that it destroys Gallifrey, and what remains of the Time Lords erects a statue of me to memorialize our civil war.”

Donna squeezed his hand. “No. Force some other interpretation. Change it.”

He squeezed her hand. “I have a plan. I don’t want anything to happen to you if it goes wrong. I can regenerate. You can’t.”

They looked back at Rassilon, catching the end of his claims that the Loomhouses were shut down because they didn’t know if the Doctor could be trusted with them. Donna’s breath caught as she looked around the ruins. The Doctor’s would-be rescuers were discussing things among themselves, and very few of them looked angry with Rassilon anymore.

To her surprise, the biggest objection came from a Councilor lying trapped underneath a chunk of flooring. “Lies! It’s all lies!”

“Oh, be quiet, Lungbarrow! Your testimony is suspect with the results of your son’s genetic scan. Or rather, your _step-son’s_ genetic scan.” Rassilon reached into his robes and pulled out the probe that Donna had spotted when she’d watched the Doctor confront the High Council about the Looms.

Every eye stared as Rassilon raised the probe and projected a hologram in the air, large enough for all to see. Triple helices spun lazily around, each base labeled. Donna couldn’t tell what part of her husband’s DNA was at all human – not that it was her field of expertise, but humans only had two strands per chromosome, didn’t they? - but whatever was different than a full-blooded Time Lord’s was causing a buzz. “Adenine and thymine?”

The Doctor’s hands trembled. “Donna,” he whispered. “Get away. You shouldn’t get too close to a regeneration.”

She released his hands, but instead of backing away, she attempted to help him up. His left leg was trapped under something large and made of metal. She couldn’t move it herself.

“Donna!” he hissed.

Swallowing hard, she backed away. She remained unnoticed by even the guards, who were still gawking at hybrid genetics with everyone else.

“Half Time Lord,” Rassilon drawled, “half-human. Speculation got it wrong. The Doctor isn’t going to father the Hybrid: he is the Hybrid.”

In the corner of her eye, Donna noticed clean robes, both white and red, surrounding the spectacle. Among the gathering Time Lords was Demeter, who was openly wearing her white robes and cap. Donna wanted to cry with relief. She slipped past the armed perimeter to greet her. “You’ve got to help him.”

Demeter kept looking ahead. “I’m only to observe.”

Donna glared at her. “You’re no help. What they’re about to do to him is wrong and you know it.”

“He needs someone for many things. Sometimes he needs someone to stop him.” Pursing her lips, Demeter tilted her head toward the Doctor.

“What is he, your knight used as a lure for your opponent’s king?” Donna put her hands on her hips. “He is innocent, and there is no reason he can’t still be a good man, a hero even! You can’t just let him be killed for something he hasn’t even done yet.”

Demeter grabbed Donna by the arms and steered her to where she could easily see the Doctor trapped under the scrap metal. “Donna Noble Lungbarrow. Pay close attention to what the Doctor is about to do.”

Rassilon nodded to the soldiers, and every single gun was aimed at the Doctor, but the Doctor pulled out a big metal-grated cube. “I’ll use it!”

All the Time Lords froze, and Demeter whispered to Donna what the Moment could do. Burning. Scorching. Pieces evaporating as the planet exploded. Like Hiroshima on steroids. All of this would happen in under a second.

The Doctor was staring Rassilon down, face blank, but his eyes, his eyes…. No! Donna’s skin chilled. Her heart cringed. “Doctor!”

“Donna, get back to the TARDIS! There’s a yellow button under the typewriter. Push it and you’ll return to Earth.” The Doctor narrowed his eyes at Rassilon. “And you’ll let her.”

“No!” She leaped, slipping and sliding through the rubble. “Doctor, you can’t! Not like this.” She wrapped her arms around his chest. His hearts were pounding under her arms.

He glanced at her. “I’m sorry. I can’t allow this to go on. Please go back to Earth. I can’t bear to have to kill you too.”

“Now, Doctor, I’m sure we can talk about this reasonably. As a sign of good faith, we’ll even dig your step-mother out from under there.” Rassilon nodded toward two of his soldiers. Immediately, they locked their weapons and placed them gingerly atop a bent metal plane. They waded toward the trapped Councilor, who was too teary to offer any words.

The Doctor nodded. “Well, since I wouldn’t prefer Gallifrey’s destruction either…. I want you to explain something to me.”

Rassilon straightened fully. “And what is it you want me to explain?”

“There was a young lady in the temporary housing. Myecet, her name was.”

Donna noticed Himecet gnawing her lip, eyes drilling into Rassilon’s back. The Doctor continued, uninterrupted. “There were others too. Where have they gone?”

Rassilon twitched. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“Don’t you?” The Doctor looked to the crowd for a moment and raised his volume. “You see, this isn’t the first time we’ve had this stand-off. During the war, just before the final battle at the Citadel, _then-Lord-President-Rassilon_ had an idea of how to end it: destroy the physical universe, turning Time Lords into shadows of ourselves and murdering every other species in existence in the process. Don’t you remember? _The final sanction,_ he called it.”

The crowd murmured.

“Most of the Council agreed, but my mother told me and asked me to stop it. I tried to make them see reason. It didn’t work at first, so I stole the Moment and returned to the Wastelands to activate it. Rassilon followed me and promised he wouldn’t use his sanction until most Time Lords agreed. You didn’t.” The Doctor wrinkled his nose. “And now they’re producing Time Lords made to agree.”

Rassilon’s eyes darted among the non-programmed soldiers, who were no longer pointing their guns at the Doctor. Instead, an old man around them was barking orders to round up the corrupt High Council members. “If the populace are _idiots_ , I’ll thwart the prophesy myself.”

His fist flew at the Doctor.

Shots flew. A barrage of red blinded Donna.

She dropped among the rubble.

“Oof!”

Donna heard more sounds coming from Rassilon and her husband. She peeked up.

A light blinded her.

Heat exploded across her back. And again.

With her eyes pressed tight, she could see white. She covered her eyes.

Something hit her back. Her teeth dipped into her tongue.

It tasted like iron.

She rolled away.

Someone yowled.

Donna opened her eyes. The Doctor had his trapped leg twisted so he could hold Rassilon’s arms behind his back, and the Lord Chancellor’s mouth was open.

Holding back a sob, Donna rubbed the Doctor’s back. “You’ve told them. They’ll investigate. You don’t have to do this anymore. You can stop.”

A smile dawned on the Doctor’s face. “You’re right. I don’t have to do it yet.” He pinned Rassilon to half a marble column, picked the Moment off a nearby bit of metal, and slipped it into his pocket. “Thank you. For stopping me I mean.”

Two soldiers came and put Rassilon in restraints. They led him away.

In a minute, Gawain was beside the Doctor and Donna, holding a sonic stethoscope. “We want to verify what Rassilon showed us.”

The Doctor swallowed. “Seeing as I can’t stop you, I’ll just admit it. Yeah, he was telling the truth about me.”

Donna hugged him tighter. “What are you going to do to him?”

“I’m not sure.” Gawain lowered the scanner. “He saved us this time, and he’s saved us before, but he’s still destined to destroy us in the end.”

The Doctor looked at his knees, clenching a fist. “I don’t know what to expect any better than you do. I don’t want to do it, but I was on the verge of that twice already. I don’t want to die either.”

Pocketing the scanner, Gawain lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Doctor. I wish it wasn’t you.” He held out a hand. “If you don’t mind, return the Moment. You’ll stand a better chance if you can show us that you don’t want to destroy Gallifrey.”

He nodded, taking the large cube from his suit and giving it to Gawain instead. “I don’t. I really, really don’t. I’ve spent my life looking for ways to thwart the prophesy.”

Donna held him to herself. “Come on. You know he’s good. How do you know the prophecy’s talking about a bad thing anyway?”

Both Time Lords looked at her. Gawain blinked. “What would you know about the prophecy anyway, _human?_ Er, First Lady Donna. I apologize. It seems I’m impulsively rude in this incarnation.”

Even with the apology, she huffed. “Are you saying humans are supposed to be stupid, you superstitious space schmuck?”

The Doctor squeezed her hand. “He didn’t mean it like that.” He lowered his head and picked up a handful of loose marble bits. “I get the feeling it is a bad thing. Look.” He let the dusty, rough-broken bits rain to the ground. “I toppled the government and blew up a building, and I haven’t even fulfilled….”

He trailed off, eyes growing to the size of his planet’s largest moon. He snapped his head up at Gawain. “Do you know what this building was?”

Gawain blinked. “The capitol building?”

“Yes, yes, exactly.” The Doctor grinned ear-to-ear. “The capitol building of _Gallifrey.”_ He waved his hand at the debris. “This is Gallifrey!” He burst into manic laughter. “I’ve destroyed Gallifrey! All that’s left is to stand in its ruins. It wasn’t talking about the planet. It was never fact that I would destroy the planet.”

Donna grinned as he continued to laugh. “What did I tell you?”

“You, Donna Lungbarrow, are brilliant.” The Doctor leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Gawain bit his lip. “It’s just one building.”

“But it was the most important building on Gallifrey. Don’t you see?”

Gawain was still frowning, so Donna cut in. “It makes sense to me. It’s like when someone back home talks about decisions made by London, they’re not talking about all of London. Or when one’s made by Washington, they’re not talking about all of Washington.”

Unfortunately, Donna’s input just shifted Gawain’s expression into open confusion.

Still grinning, the Doctor explained. “She means that humans sometimes use the name of the whole to represent the part. We both think that’s the case here too.”

Demeter’s voice startled Donna. “Synecdoche has occurred in Matrix prophesies before.”

Donna looked at the Time Lady, standing tall behind the Doctor. The seal of the Gallifreyan Advisory gleamed on her puffed-out chest. What was more, she was actually smiling.

Donna couldn’t help but smile back.

“All this time that you were trying to coax me into fulfilling the prophesy, is this what you foresaw?” Gone from the Doctor’s voice were distrust and accusation.

“We saw you overthrowing the corrupted High Council. They are also referred to as _Gallifrey_.” She paused. “The Advisory Council knew for some time that it needed to be done. That’s when they started recruiting from the Sisters of the Waters.”

“I see.” The Doctor peered up at Gawain. “What a relief to have the Matrix’s most alarming prophesy out of the way. Am I right?”

Demeter shook her head. “Not quite yet.” She looked at Donna and Gawain. “Dig him out. Help him stand. Then I can declare the prophesy fulfilled.”

Between the two of them, they managed. The Doctor leaned heavily on Donna’s shoulders, but he stood in the ruins of Gallifrey.

Demeter slipped off to deliver the news to the Advisory Council and everyone on-site, and Donna smirked at Gawain. “You have no reason to kill him now.”

At last, he smiled back. “No, I don’t.”

The Doctor winked at Donna. “Soon, we’ll have no reason _not_ to be married Gallifreyan-style either. Well, there might still be cultural reasons not to, but do we really care? We told your planet that I wanted to show everyone I’m serious about relations. And besides… oh, you know.”

She slapped him. “Just say it, you prawn!”

He paled a bit, but she stared him down until the words came out: “Donna Lungbarrow, I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: A planned bonus chapter where Donna and the Doctor go on an outing and officially get married.
> 
> Review incentive: None. However, my Doctor Who/Bendy and the Ink Machine crossover is out, and you do not need to know Bendy and the Ink Machine to follow it. Between the time Donna first turns down travelling with the Doctor and the time when the Doctor meets Martha, the TARDIS takes him inside a massive Groundhog Day Loop that threatens Earth and its neighbors. It's up to him to save the day - if he hasn't gotten in over his head. Meanwhile, murder plots are underway.... [Check it out if you're interested!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17395844/chapters/40943876)
> 
> (By the way, the BATIM references in my DW fanfictions are:
> 
> *An Alien on Gallifrey - Donna, the Doctor, and the POTUS attend a production of Oedipus Rex in the S. Lawrence Performing Arts Buidling. Sammy Lawrence is the former head of the music department in BATIM's Joey Drew Studios.
> 
> *Chiswick Mercy - the Eleventh Doctor decides to take River to a studio that brings inky creations to life. Although the ones in CM turn out to be robots, inky creations that have been brought to life is the premise of BATIM.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.


	15. In Which the Doctor Whispers

The next few months kept them occupied. The Doctor used his emergency powers to overturn the unjust population laws – both the set about the Loomhouses and the set about the hybrids. He called for elections to choose the new High Council – elections that would re-select periodically.

Elections in the UK yielded Harriet Jones as Prime Minister, and she was more willing than Saxon to meet with the Doctor and reestablish trade with Gallifrey.

During these months, the Doctor spoke frequently of resigning as Lord President, but he stuck it out until things were stable, at Donna’s urging.

One of the happiest moments came on a day when Donna stumbled into the TARDIS kitchen, looking for some morning tea, and found the Doctor humming. He had a full breakfast of eggs, sausage, porridge, some toast and marmalade, and a steaming cuppa waiting for her, and he was wearing his office’s robes. “Morning, Donna!”

She raised her brows. “What’s the occasion?”

“From what I understand, there’s some sort of surprise waiting for us near the Citadel Loomhouse.” He saluted her with a glass of orange juice. “I thought we’d celebrate.”

The surprise was waiting on the Loomhouse grounds when they arrived. On first sight, it looked like a small black obelisk standing guard in the hush. Gawain greeted them outside in a formal pair of periwinkle robes. “Lord President Doctor. First Lady Donna. It is an honor to see you again.”

The Doctor’s lips turned upward. “Gawain. How are the repairs in Olyesti?”

“We have a Loom running. Without the mental modifications.” Gawain gestured them into the obelisk. “I’ve been invited to show you the memorial.”

Donna was sure this place needed a memorial, but for what exactly? She knew of so many things it could honor. Smiling, she brought her free hand to sandwich the Doctor’s. “Let’s see it then.”

Inside was a large round room with a single shining stone wall, inscribed with millions of tiny, written circles. Directly across from the entrance was a relief with the Doctor’s and Donna’s faces. Engraved in gray tiles beneath their feet were Time Lords in military armor.

Two Time Lords with the new Council pendants were waiting inside.

Donna’s breath caught in her throat. The Doctor ran his hand down the wall. “What are all these names?”

One of the Councilors spoke. “Those are the names of every executed victim under the anti-hybrid laws. Gallifrey murdered two million, one thousand, forty-three children waiting for you, and then you fulfill the prophesy by saving our race.”

The Doctor stood still, gazing at the wall. Donna let him have a moment, letting her own eyes study the names, although she could still read Gallifreyan only as well as she could ancient Greek.

The other Councilor took a turn speaking. “Never again. We’re upholding the new constitution. Hybrids will have the same protections as anyone else.”

The Doctor took a deep breath. “Thank you.” When he turned around, his eyes were shining.

Gawain showed them to the stone relief. “The history is written here. Their story. Your story.” He gestured to the floor. “The story of the modified Loomlings and those who lost their lives in the events surrounding them too.”

Donna thought she saw a few name circles in the tiles. She looked up. “What happened to them?”

The Doctor tucked a strand of Donna’s ginger behind her ear. “They’re alright. They’ve been put in stasis until we can deprogram them. It wasn’t their fault what happened.”

She nodded. “And them?” She indicated the names on the floor.

He swallowed. “A few of them may have survived as a Loomling, but most of them are truly dead. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Donna leaned her head against the Doctor’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. She listened to his double heart beat. At least he was still alive. As were Terraviel and Himecet.

“She lost a friend to the Looms,” the Doctor explained. “I think she’d like to see Myecet’s name.”

“It’s under your foot.”

When the Doctor moved his foot, Donna could see a circle a little bigger than the others. She bent down and put her hand to it. She didn’t have to know the meaning of the arcs, the lines, or the dots for her eyes to fill with tears as she traced the circumference.

“She was the one who drew your attention to the souls the former Council used as fodder, wasn’t she?” The Councilor spoke smoothly and quietly. “We’re sorry for your loss.”

Shaking her head, Donna stood up. “You should be saying that to her friends from the Crossroads. They knew her longer.”

The Councilor nodded. “Yes. We will say it tonight, when we open this to the public. We’re showing you two first as an official apology to the Hybrid and the Alien on Gallifrey.”

Donna watched the Doctor’s face. His chest moved slowly, tension melting from his shoulders. That was his whole life.

“You will notice a teleport out on the back of the monument with two destinations. This is a time when our planet needs healing the most, so one destination is a monument for the Last Great Time War, just outside Arcadia; and the other….” The Councilor nodded to Gawain.

“The other,” Gawain said, “is a triumphant mural on the side of the Olyesti Loomhouse, celebrating a brighter future. If you’d like to see it….”

Donna and the Doctor shared a grin. They followed Gawain outside and around to the teleport.

Now on the side of the Olyesti Loomhouse was a balance of broken stone, bent metal, and shattered glass – rubble from the war? Or from the capitol building perhaps? - and it was painted in bright, cheerful colors. Children ran under a clear orange sky, laughing and throwing balls. Other planets showed in the mural too, most prominently Earth, and aliens seemed to smile at the children of Gallifrey from their ships and their planets. Stars sparkled all across the side of this wall up and down.

The Doctor pointed to a little family painted on a piece of glass. “Is that what I think it is?”

A faceless Time Lord in formal government robes was holding hands with a red-headed woman in a white dress. Children followed behind them.

Gawain nodded.

The Doctor took both of Donna’s hands, his eyes softening to resemble a puppy’s. “Donna-”

She cut him off with a kiss. “Yes.”

“Molto bene!” He returned her kiss deeply. When he pulled back, he whispered, “Are you ready to hear my name?”

“Yes.”

He leaned in, breath warm on her ear. “My name is….”

His name was absolutely beautiful, and the bond felt like a warm hug.

This time, she absolutely knew it: her partner was a little obsessed with his home’s interplanetary neighbors. He kept running off to meet them and save their worlds. That was okay, because on Gallifrey, she was the alien, and she loved him back.


End file.
